


Faith That Things Can Change

by Ambroshia



Series: A New Old World [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bounty Hunter Obi-Wan Kenobi, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Slavery, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:28:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 40,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27532282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambroshia/pseuds/Ambroshia
Summary: Ten years in the past and Obi-wan has made it his mission to change the future. The first thing he plans to do is alter the fates of Shmi Skywalker and Asajj Ventress, saving the two women who hold the future and all of Obi-wan's hopes in their hands.
Series: A New Old World [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2012344
Comments: 81
Kudos: 290





	1. Double the Suns, Double the Hope

Tatooine was a terrible, arid place. 

All sand and scum and slaves. 

The only things pleasant about the planet were the simple, hardworking moisture farmers and its ancient, mystical Force presence that whispered of lost knowledge and otherworldly connection.

Ben could see why Anakin avoided the planet.

Ben piloted down into the atmosphere, watching as white dots formed into cities. His goal was Mos Espa, one of the largest cities on the planet and one easily found. 

If anyone in the Hutt’s Aviation Authority questioned Ben’s highly questionable call sign as he came down, they said nothing, and simply directed him to a landing platform in a recessed docking bay. _ Piece-of-Sith  _ touched down with a sickening crunch of metal as it valiantly tried to adjust to the planet's gravity. He had already hidden his belongings before landing and only needed to wrap his head in one of Hanne’s cloaks to hide his bright hair. Stewjoni were still rare, and here on Tatooine, rare meant valuable. The last thing he needed was for some half-witted opportunist to try and kidnap him. 

Ben winced as the ramp lowered with a screech. Apparently he was not the only one either, as once the ramp was low enough to see, the people standing just outside grimaced, and one man was even covering his ears. 

When Ben reached the innocuously named ‘Hutt landing attendants’ he was surprised to find them non-confrontational.

“De wanna wanga Pateesa _ ” Greetings friend.  _ The front man said. He was a deep brown with even deeper creases lining his sun tanned face. “This landing platform belongs to the exalted Jabba the Hutt. If you don't want trouble, you need to pay a fee.” The two aliens behind him hiked their blasters a bit higher, trying to demonstrate how dangerous they could be.

“De wanna wanga.” Ben replied easily. He had learned quite a bit of Huttese from Anakin, though most of it had been curses, “Jee wamma droi gee repa creeda.”  _ Greetings. I will pay your fee in republic credits _ . The guttural sounds of Huttese covered his accent nicely and he almost sounded like a local given his inflection. Hopefully it would garner him some rapport.

The man looked at Ben and then back at his ship. Ben skimmed his thoughts, wanting a forewarning if this was going to turn into a fight. What he saw was more humiliating. The extortionist would usually refuse such payments but he saw Ben as worse off than most and probably just another poor native like himself. In the man's eyes, Ben had landed in what was a cobbled together hazard of a ship and exited looking like he had gone several rounds in the fighting pits without having time to wash; Ben had, after all, worn his most run down outfit to blend in. There was even the briefest flash of wanting to donate credits to  _ him _ !

_ I'm being pitied. Stars.  _

The landing fee was exorbitant and a clear ripoff, but it came with protection guaranteed by the Hutts so at least neither his ship or his things would be stolen.  _ Not that they think there is anything worth stealing _ . And thank the Force he had legally purchased his ship and that it was identified as belonging to a bounty hunter because otherwise the Hutts protection fee would have skyrocketed into a league of racketeering all its own. 

After the initial transaction was done Ben questioned, “Where might I trade republic credits for wupiupi? I know most won't accept it around here.” The blackmailer gave Ben another up and down. “Well, if you want to lose half your value, you can always go try to trade it with one of the Hutt clerks.” The three men shared scoffs and mocking looks of an inside joke. “But since you're part of the guild, I would go see them. They always need credits. Besides, they have already been alerted to your arrival.”

Ben thanked the man who waved him off, heading toward another landing ship. Ben did not even have to search for the guild because a member was already outside the landing strip waiting for him.  _ They must have been alerted the moment I entered the atmosphere. Hutt criminal efficiency at its finest.  _ They were completely unidentifiable, wrapped head to toe in the brown cloaks preferred in the desert environment. 

“Boska.”  _ Come.  _

Ben saw little reason not to follow them since they were presumably going to the guild outpost. 

Mos Espa looked like every other port city on Tatooine, filled with sand blasted white sandstone homes and gruff, prematurely aged people. Jawa and rodents roamed about. Traders called out to pedestrians to look at their wares. The dry heat of the double suns slowly but surely baked everyone.

Ben could definitely see why Anakin avoided it.

His guide led him up and down streets, doubling back several times, as though they were trying to avoid a tail, though Ben could not sense anyone. The dive they entered looked like every other domed building they had passed. Ben probably never would have found it on his own. 

Inside was a bar with tables filled with patrons, all of who were mercenaries or bounty hunters if the cold aura they gave off was any indication. 

More interestingly was the large display board showing the most recent bounties. From low level discovery missions to high price black listings. They had them all.

What drew Ben’s eye was the scrolling banner of bounty hunters and which marks they picked. Faces flashed by in the staticy blue of a holo and among them were faces Ben knew very well. Embo, Cad Bane, Bossk, Durge...Jango Fett.

Ben stopped in the middle of the room, staring at the floating buy’ce of the clones progenitor. Given the year, Ben hadn't expected for Jango to be taking bounties, since Boba would be about three years old at this point. But the evidence to the contrary was right there in front of him. Maybe getting access to Kamino wouldn't be as hard as he thought _. A consideration for later. _

His guide had wandered off, their job done, and Ben went to the droid who seemed to be the outposts broker.

“I needed to trade in credits for wupiupi.” 

“Exchange rate is two republic credits for a single wupiupi coin.”

“That's fine. I’ll need 5000.”

The droid left to collect the money. Ben had several thousand credits to his name now. He knew a force sensitive slave usually ran for 10000 wupiupi and a group of 4 slaves around 8000 if they were of mediocre stock. For an older, force null woman like Anakin’s mother she wouldn't cost more than 3000 at the most. Ben felt cruel for even thinking about the value of life in such terms but it was a terrible reality of the universe that slavery existed. It was another sad truth that Jedi were taught the value of force sensitives and slaves alike. 

As he waited Ben thought back to his master complaining how his mind trick had not taken and that the dealer refused his republic credits. He fondly remembered Qui-gons indignation and his risky gamble. _ If only it had been this easy then...  _

The droid returned shortly, coins in hand, and soon Ben was on his way, giving one last look to the holo display of Jango’s helmet before departing. 

As he made his way to the slave district he thought about what Tatooine meant to him. How it was where he first met Anakin and where Maul, the first Sith in a thousand years, revealed himself. And, if what the Council believed was true, that a Sith lord had orchestrated the war, then it could be argued that the first fight of the war happened here between Maul and Qui-gon. 

He thought back to the day the war started, wondering why Anakin was on Tatooine rather than Naboo. Why, after Geonosis, Anakin was distant and reserved, keeping his shields up and hidden from Ben.

He had never gotten an answer. 

Anakin refused to talk about it, and any time it was brought up, they would get into a standoff that usually had Anakin avoiding him for days. Then he was a knight in his own right, so eventually Ben just let it lie. But now he was on Tatooine again and the Force was calling out for him to act. Perhaps the planet would play host to another life changing event for Ben, acting as the stage for his first act of event altering. 

Anakin's mother was  _ here _ . He would free her and finally give his padawan the parental comfort he had not allowed himself too. Anakin would be twelve at this time of year, getting closer to thirteen. Ben remembered vividly those taciturn years where Anakin was more powerful but less controlled than his peers, of himself leaving the boy behind at the temple because he was unsure if he was ready for real missions, of Anakin’s doubt and isolation. So many mistakes he had made when raising the boy. 

What he had needed was someone to confide in, someone to complain to about his master and his classes to, who he could trust with his fears without worrying about judgement.

Anakin needed his mother.

And Ben would give him that. 

And all he needed to do now was find a junk dealer called Watto. 

Anakin mentioned him often in his early years, telling stories about machines he was instructed to fix and races he had been put into. He did not seem to resent the alien for his enslavement because, as Anakin put it, ‘Gardula had been worse’. Anakin had said the dealer was a blue Toydarian whose store was not very far from the slave district. 

He found a shop with a scruffy Toydarian and a woman with dark hair manning the counter.  _ This must be it.  _ The shop itself was a mess of parts and gadgets but all that was secondary as he focused in on the woman.  _ Could this be her?  _

"Ah welcome! Welcome! What can I do for you?" Watto exclaimed, wings fluttering in excitement. The merchant flew uncomfortably close.

"I'm looking for several parts for my ship." Ben said, trying to look around the hovering alien to get a better look at the woman. She would not meet his eyes.

“Ah! Then you have come to the right place’a. Anything you need.” His voice was ruff and his shrewd eyes took Ben’s measure to see how many credits he was likely to make from this deal.

Ben rattled off a list of fairly cheap and common parts hoping for the Toydarian to leave to collect them so he could question the woman but the man did not move. 

"Yes yes we have those! Shmi.”  _ Shmi! _ “Go get the parts he needs’a! Quick! Quick!" The woman slides around them both to head out to what looked like a junkyard in the back.

Now, with Shmi in his sights, all his carefully planning went out the airlock. She was here. The woman who stayed in slavery and allowed her only son to join the Order in the hopes that he would have a better life was just outside. The woman who they choose not to free because they feared what she might mean to one of their own. She was here and no force in the galaxy could make him leave her enslaved.

"I would like to look around myself to see if I find anything else I might want. Your worker could keep an eye on me." Watto gave a skeptical squint but gave him a dismissive wave as turned back to what he had been working on. Yes, he was absolutely going to free her.

Soon Ben was walking along with the woman who had given him several furtive glances since his approach. She did not look like Anakin much at all really. Where Anakin was blonde, and more recently brunette, with blue eyes, Shmi had dark hair and eyes. 

Ben focused on her presence in the force, lightly prodding at the essence that made up the diminutive woman beside him. What he felt was a deep well of sorrow and yet, no apathy. She was reverberating strength and hope into the Force, her spirit unbroken by her enslavement. She may not look like Anakin but he certainly got his resolve from his mother. 

"So my dear, might I inquire what your name is?" He put on his most charming smile hoping for here to say the titular name Skywalker. 

Shmi did not react the way he hoped, instead she tensed like she was waiting for a blow and her anxiety in the Force rose. Ben immediately deflated. Unlike the last few people he had tried to charm, who had all outright dismissed him, Shmi found his actions predatory.  _ I should have known a comment like that would put her on edge. Foolish. _

"I'm Shmi sir." Polite, if a bit terse. He should have expected this.

"And you're a slave aren't you?" Ben didn't wish to be this blunt but he had little time to speak with her before Watto got curious and she was already weary of him.

A forced calm came over her and her eyes settled into a vague sheen. "Yes sir."

He made a noncommittal noise and returned to the shop, adjusting his head wrap as he went. 

"Ah my friend! Did you find anything else you might want? A uplink ring condenser perhaps?"

"No, nothing like that. However, I would like to purchase the woman, Shmi." 

Watto seemed taken aback before quickly spouting "She's not for sale."

" I have a thousand wupiupi." He would spend whatever it took to free Shmi, but he would be damned if he gave this slaver a credit more than he had to. 

" Ha! That is nothing. Not nearly enough and, as I already said, she's not for sale."

"1500." He had more than enough credits to purchase her but it would be suspicious if he didnt barter as was the custom of Tatooine. 

"No. That doesn't even cover the money she makes for me or how much I've spent to keep her alive. Water isn't cheap you know."

"Then you  _ are  _ willing to part with her." Ben says with a wolfish smile.

"Well for the right price, perhaps. But I doubt you have even close to her value."

Shmi returned with an arm full of goods and stood stock still in the doorway. She had obviously heard. Ben wanted to grimace but keep his face still, she shouldn't have to hear her life being bartered away as if she wasn't a person, but he didn't have a choice if he wanted her transmitter to be safely removed. 

" I can go to 1700, no higher."

Watto started at him for a long moment which would yield him nothing since his head wrap had remained on.

"3000"

"2000"

"2700"

"2400"

"Deal" Watto stretched out his hand and Ben took it. Watto turned to go find her slave transmitter and as he turned he looked at Shmi for a long moment, a message almost being shared between them. Watto almost felt apologetic in the Force while Shmi nearly felt betrayed which was quickly smothered by a sad acceptance.

Ben and Shmi stood in silence both locked in a contemplation of their futures.

Ben pulled out the right amount of wupiupi coins as Watto returned with a dusty transmitter. The transmitter had a lancet that Watto stuck into his arm for a blood sample before entering his code and then having Ben do the same. Slave transmitters had blood identifying devices for those who used them so that even if a slave were able to get a hold of their own, it would be all but worthless to them without their master's blood and input code. The exchange happened quickly and soon he was walking out with Shmi on his heels and a feeling of deep shame at what he had just done. Buying a person, even for a good reason, felt like it left a stain on his very existence. 

"Well now we need a place to discuss what we are going to do." Ben said in as warm a tone as he could manage. “Do you have somewhere that we can talk in private?” 

Shmi nodded and headed toward the slave district. Her back held straight and a firmness to her shoulders. She felt unbelievably scared in the force and the images she was projecting of what he might do to her were going to make him sick.

"Be calm Shmi, I don't plan on hurting you."

He could feel her disbelief in the Force and they continued on in a tense silence. As they walked Ben struggled to keep his growing anger in check. These vile things she feared were a common worry for her, a fear that all slave women faced, and he was disgusted with himself and the systems that allowed such things to happen. This was the life he and the Jedi order had condemned her to.  _ When does nonattachment become dispassion become cruelty?  _

Her home was small but well tended. And when they got there she stayed beside the door to allow him inside first. Once the door shut she abruptly turned towards Ben and waited. 

Ben sighed and took off his cloak and looked into her strong, sorrowful, dark eyes.

"Your Shmi Skywalker, yes?"

She startled at her name, certain she had only given her first to him.

"I came here with the plan to free you. You see, I owe your son Anakin a bit of a debt."

The tension in her body skyrocketed and she became increasingly suspicious, like an animal that was trapped and kept from its pups.

"And what do you know of Anakin." The way she spoke he felt that if he didn't answer soon, he may just end up stabbed. She may have been a slave but she would never willingly allow someone to hurt her child. And a strange man knowing things he shouldn't was a definitive threat. 

"Please. Let us sit. I have a bit to tell you."

He might as well start at the beginning... from a certain point of view.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about breaking the story up into a series but I wanted to be able to tag things right. Thanks for reading and comment if you like, I love hearing from people❣


	2. Hidden Help

"My name is Ben.” he says, dipping his head in her direction. “Your son left here some time ago with the Jedi and the queen of Naboo. I know this because I was one of the people they freed when they took back the planet.” The story fell from his lips easily, the mix of half-truths making it almost believable even to him. 

“Your son brought down the droid control ship and effectively ended the occupation himself. He saved my life that day and I have to find a way to pay him back for that."

Whatever she had expected him to say, that was not it. She sat for a long moment, staring down at her hands clenched together. Ben brushed against her mind, pulling up flashes of a boy with golden hair, long nights that felt empty without her son, a desperate wish that he was safe. And deeper, an aching hope, fragile and small, that Ben was telling the truth.

“You know Ani?” she asked softly, leaning forward to look into Ben’s face, or at least what she could see of it.

“Oh yes. He’s an exceptionally bright boy. Has the mind of a mechanic and the heart of a true hero. I did not have a chance to speak with him much, but I know he's one of the good ones.”

Her dark eye pierced into his own, and though he knew she was Force null, he felt that she was looking directly into his very heart. 

“Yes, he has always been good with machines.” Her smile is sad and reminiscent. “So then, why are you here?”

"He talked about you, about this city, and I knew that if I could do anything for him it would be to free his mother. The Jedi can't because of their no attachments principal" he tried to not let any bitterness seep into his words "And as far as I know, no one else has thought to do this." It had always surprised him that Padme had never returned to the planet.

Shmi was silent and searched his eyes as if she would be able to detect a lie.

"Shmi, if you would let me, I could take you to Naboo. Get you set up there. You could leave all this behind."

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the transmitter and allows it to prick him for a blood sample before inputting his passcode. Shmi watches him with weary eyes, expecting a cruel deception, dangling her freedom like Gardula so often had. He sets the transmitter on the table and slides it towards her. “I came here to free you Shmi. Please, I promise you, this is no trick.”

With shaking hands she takes the transmitter, immediately piercing her hand and inputting a new code before her opportunity for freedom can be snatched away. The display turns green, transfer of ownership recognized, and she watches it with bewildered shock.

"And with that you're free." Ben says easily. "I'll take you to get your explosive removed whenever you're ready." It was amazing and terrible all at once how easily freedom could be gained, just a drop of blood and a few numbers were all that stood in the way of liberation.

Shmi holds the transmitter like it's a block of cortosis, a wealth of unshed tears in her eyes. 

Ben had seen that face many times in his life; people who only continued on only because of the hope that one day they might be free, and when at long last they had it, their relief was palpable and overwhelming. 

Ben knew that she would need a moment to come to terms that her lifetime of slavery was at an end, he would be respectful of her feelings and allow her the time she needed. "I'll be waiting outside. When you're ready, come out and I will take you wherever you want."

He loudly made his way out of the home, making noise so that she would be able to tell when he was out of earshot. He walked across the road and slumped onto the ground, resting in the shade of one of the buildings.

Though he could not hear her, Ben knew Shmi was crying. The spikes of emotion in the Force were filled with hope and yearning, joy and relief, elation verging on delirium. 

She was released. 

She was _ free _ . 

Free.

After a lifetime of enslavement, of years of living under constant threat, consumed with fear and anger at those who thought of her life, her son's life, as worthless, she was free.

Ben allowed her emotions to wash over him, allowed himself to join her in her excitement and jubilation. 

He had done it. He had freed her. Had changed the course of her life. And if he could do that, he could do anything. He could, truly, change the fates of everyone. He could prevent the Jedi from dying, he could find the clones and keep them out of the hands of the republic, he could save Anakin and Ashoka and Ventress and Satine and Cody and every other person the war had twisted and destroyed. 

He could save himself. 

Time passed slowly on the burning planet and it was some time before Shmi emerged from her home, red eyed and puffy faced. Ben said nothing and simply handed his canteen to the woman who gratefully drank. If a few wayward tears slipped down her face, neither brought attention to it. 

"We don't have to do this right now if you need more time." he said gently.

"No. I want this done now." She begins down the road but then stops, hesitating, waiting for Ben to walk ahead of her, only to realize that she did not have to. He wasn't her master. She steeled herself and pressed onward so that they stood side by side. The momentary lapse in perceived rank viciously pushed away. They were equals now and she would not act subservient. 

To Ben’s surprise, Shmi did not led them to the medicenter like he expected, rather she went into a vaporator repair and machine surplus store. The shop itself looked much like Watto’s had though this one was better organized. 

The woman who greets them is tall and thin, graying hair pulled backwards accentuating a gaunt, lined face. She smiles at Shmi, recognizing her instantly, but when her eyes lock on Ben her demeanor shifts to one of suspicion. She walks closer to them, one hand drifting into her aprons pocket, “Achuta. Hi chuba da naga bedwana?”  _ Hello. What do you want to buy? _

Ben keeps his expression pleasant, not wanting to alarm the obviously armed woman. “I’m sorry, I don't actually speak Huttese. Basic?”  _ Best to play ignorant for now.  _

The woman looks back to Shmi, “Azalus? Killee?”  _ Is he dangerous? Should I kill him? _ She had walked closer to Shmi, angling her body so that she could easily push Shmi behind her. Her hand had yet to leave her pocket. Ben does not react at all, now not because he didn't want to startle her, but more because he had faced people far scarier than a vaporator repair woman.

“No. No. He’s a...he’s a friend. A friend. Kikyuna.” Shmi places a placating hand on the woman's shoulder who, while not completely relaxing, does become less tense. 

“Kikuna? We’ll see.” She reveals both hands, giving Ben a traditional greeting, which he returns. “Any friend of Shmi is a friend of mine. But you hurt her, and I will kill you.”

Ben’s smile grows, “Noted.”

“So, are you here to buy something or do you need a special repair service?” The woman looks Shmi up and down eyes searching until landing on her tear stained face. She whips around to face Ben, blaster in hand, trained on the ground. Without looking back she asks, “Shmi, what happened?”

“Special service, Twal.” is all Shmi says. Twal remains motionless for a moment before motioning her blaster for Ben to walk in front of them. Together the three of them make their way towards the back of the store and then down a concealed staircase, coming out in a large room, almost the size of the shop itself.

Off-white walls with dried shrub leaves covering the floor, beds scattered about the room, some with occupants, most without, equipment hastily shoved against the walls, jury rigged medidroids floating around offering water soaked sponges to moaning patients, a woman, obviously in the process of giving birth, groaning in pain, clutching the hand of another.

Ben takes everything in in a flash, feeling in the Force the exact number of patients and getting an onslaught of ideas of pain, projected from the injured and sick. It was like standing in the clone’s medical tent after a battle, all phantom hurts from men who didn't know how to shield their minds.

Ben turns back to the two women who are deep in conversation.

"I need my explosive removed." Shmi says with a forced calm despite her emotions flitting between excitement, trepidation, joy, and fear.

Twal looks shocked and unsure until Shmi reveals her transmitter and that it was owned by herself, green light glittering in the dim room. “I've been freed, Twal. I'm free.” Shmi said, a large grin cracking across her weathered face.

Twal's mouth dropped open, suddenly throwing herself at Shmi, wrapping her arms around the smaller woman in a fierce hug. “Thank the spirits.” Twal murmured into Shmi’s hair before pulling away and wiping tears from her eyes. “Let’s get that karking thing out of you.”

Together they are ushered to a corner of the room with a large metal cube. Its walls are sheets of steel, welded together to make a very strong box. “Wait here while I get everything ready.” 

Twal starts to leave before turning back and grabbing Shmi once more, “I'm so happy for you. Inkabunga, Shmi. Inkabunga!”  _ Incredible. _ Twal quickly trots off after that, wiping at her eyes. 

Ben stands beside Shmi, asking her nothing, just lending his presence for comfort. 

“She’s a family friend you know...Freeborn, but she never treated us any different. She was already here when Watto won us. Taught me and Anakin everything we know about taking things apart and putting them back together.” She watches the woman grabbing things from shelves fondly. “She made this place into a hospital just for people like us, uses her little shop as a cover to get equipment, treats whatever injuries she can with the help of the other slaves. She’s a good woman.”

Ben watches her, feeling a wave of anxiety begin to consume her. “I might kill her today.” Shmi says looking away from the woman and up into Ben’s eyes. “This bomb might go off no matter what we do. If I die, don't tell Anakin. It would hurt him too much.” 

Ben doesn't know what to say, dropping his arms to the side, fists clenched. “That's not going to happen.”  _ I will stop the explosion myself if I have too _ . “You are not going to die.” Ben puts a small Force suggestion into his words, his way of willing Shmi to be calm and for everything to turn out how he hopes. “Twal knows what she is doing. She will get that bomb out without a problem and you will be out of here in no time, living as a free woman.”

Shmi nods mutely, letting go off the handful of her dress she had gripped during her own speech. Not long later Twal returns ladened with supplies and a medidroid hovering beside her. “Rooms too small for your friend so he'll have to wait out here.” Twal jerks her head towards an empty chair before guiding Shmi into the bombproof room, the pair vanishing behind the door. 

Ben waits for a moment, ensuring he can feel both of their life signs and their overall thoughts before sitting. If either of them began to feel scared or if the Force gave even the slightest warning, he would be in that room immediately to do what he could. He would do what he could, but he was no healer, he had to trust in Twal.

His consciousness narrows down to the two women, reading the flow of their energies as though they were in his head. Nothing they felt would slip past him. He watched as Shmi’s mind became quieter, drifting into medical induced sleep. Twal was calm, if focused, her concentration absolute. 

Ben knows when Twal discovers the location of the explosive; her thoughts a whirlpool of anger and concern. It had to be somewhere dangerous. Twal is undeterred though, her determination echoing through the Force like an oath. She would see that Shmi would make it through the surgery unharmed, for her there was no other option than to see her friend safely though this. 

Ben centered on Shmi’s life force, burning like the very suns. He stayed there, guarding her life, for what felt like a small eternity. 

Ben was aware the instant Shmi began to gain consciousness, registering her confusion and dizziness, but at least she wasn't in pain. A moment later, as Ben pulled himself out of the meditation, Twal opens the door, closing it behind her.

“She’s fine, just needs to recover. I found the explosive near her spine. It's a favored place of that wakamancha slug Gardula for its inescapability and difficulty removing. It won't be long before she can leave but she will need her rest.” 

“Now, how do you know Shmi?” Twal leans against an empty bed, trying for casually curious but Ben could tell she was deadly serious about her question. 

“I was the one who freed her. I just came to make sure she was safe and that any cost would be taken care of.”

Twal’s energy warms immediately before Ben finds himself in a crushing hug. Her gratitude is overwhelming, pushing deep into his mind. “Thank you. Thank you.”

Twal is still wrapped around Ben when Shmi comes stumbling out of the metal room. Twal is about to let go and steady her when Shmi moves forward to add herself to the hug. Ben would be lying if he said he didn't lean into the warmth of it, basking in their joy and relief. This was what he was meant to do, what the Jedi were meant to do; helping people, bringing joy, making peace, not fighting wars, not leading men to die.  _ This is everything we are meant to be. _

In the end the explosive was safely removed and Shmi would only have a slight scar on her back. It was the best outcome Ben could have imagined. 

Twal assists in taking Shmi back to her home, placing her in bed with strict instructions not to move around too much. “I can't stay, there's still so much left to do at the clinic, but I'll be back tomorrow to check on you, okay? Just rest up till then.” Twal gives the woman a gentle squeeze on the shoulder before leaving the room. 

As Twal exits the home she turns toward Ben. She says nothing as they stare at each other, a message that doesn't need words passing between them. Twal gives a hard nod and vanishes out the door.

Ben returns to Shmi’s room as she adjusts herself so that she is sitting up slightly. 

"Shmi, I must know, will you be coming with me? Naboo is a beautiful planet and I'm sure the queen would have no issue recognizing you as an honorary citizen." He sits on a stool beside her bed. “Just say the word and I will begin packing your things and we can be on our way when you're ready.”

"No, I will be staying here.” she says with a smile. “This is my home, it's where I belong.” Ben is unsurprised by this, if a little disappointed. There were things out in the universe he wished Shmi could see now that she had the ability, but this was her choice as a free person, and he would never say anything against her decision. 

“Actually, would you allow me to use your commlink? There is someone I need to speak to."


	3. Recollections

_ Well that's easy enough _ . He gave her his comm and returned to the main room to give her some privacy. He was curious who she could be contacting but it would be highly rude to ask, and he could just imagine the face Yaddle would have made if acted without perfect decorum.

The conversation must have been short because a few moments later he was called back to Shmi's side. 

"If you wouldn't mind staying for a few more hours, there is someone I would like to introduce you to."

They sat in companionable silence, both deep in thought. Ben looked at the woman who his padawan, his  _ brother _ , loved.  _ Surely I can call him brother now. After everything. Now that he’s- now that he’s gone. _

Ben jerked his head away from the woman who only gave him a curious look. He couldn't look at her anymore, couldn't bear to see the face of the woman who he had failed so thoroughly. He had never met her and yet she should have been a fixture in his life, if for nothing else than that his padawan loved her. And here she was, glowing in the force with strength and compassion. 

He would need a way to get a communicator to Anakin. Freeing his mother would do him no good if he did not even know that she was safe. And simply telling him would not be enough. If Anakin received news of his mother, he would immediately run out to insure it was true, council be damned even at that young age. Escaping the temple and hitching a ride to Tatooine would be so like Anakin.  _ Yes, a communicator would be best. That way they will be able to see each other. Anakin would like that. _

The boy in this time was not his, and yet, he was. The Anakin of this world was as familiar as his own, just smaller, the little boy who so desperately wanted to prove he was ready to be a Jedi. And this worlds Obi-wan, so dedicated to fulfilling Qui-gon’s final wish, so desperate to be worthy of the chosen one, so scared that his own failings would be visible to all that he buried them so deep that he was considered to be the perfect Jedi, was so similar to Ben it hurt.  _ I have not changed much since then have I? Same old fears.  _

But Ben had a power that his younger counterpart did not have.

He could disobey the council. 

The council did not even know of his existence so their decrees and regulations could not reach him. He would give Anakin the means to keep in contact with his mother without having his younger self face increased scrutiny. 

The hardest part would be finding a way for Anakin to keep the communicator a secret. That boy could not keep a secret to save his life. Oh he would never  _ say _ anything compromising but he was tactile, and fiercely protective of the things he cared about. His actions would give him away more than anything. 

_ Like Padme _ . If he had thought he kept his relationship to Padme a secret, he was very much mistaken. ‘ _ For Force sake Anakin, Padme ran into your arms on Geonosis while I was standing next to you. How you ever thought you were being stealthy, I will never know’  _ Ben smiled to himself but it quickly fell away. 

_ Never know _ . 

He really would never know now. He would never have the chance to ask him about their relationship; about why he did not trust him enough to share his feelings even though he knew that he once felt the same for Satine; never be able to share his joy at Padme’s pregnancy; never have the chance to say that, despite how against the code it was, he love them both; how he thought Jedi masters wouldn't be able to feel the life forces of the two Force sensitive children growing in her womb. 

He would never know if he was finally happy.

Ben placed his head in his hands, feeling the claws of despair running through himself. So many questions left unanswered, so many paths that almost were, so much life lost for nothing. None of it had mattered, not when Ben was sent back, not when he was changing things. 

Had Padme made it through the clone's betrayal unscathed? Had her children? If Anakin had Fallen as he believed what would have become of their relationship? He would never  _ know _ .

“Ben?”

Ben startles up, hand going unconsciously to his concealed lightsaber, eyes darting about, looking for his hidden enemy.  _ Damn, I need to stay focused, can't let them sneak up on me _ . 

“Where are they?” They must be here. Droids, Sith,...clones. 

“Where are who?” Shmi says leaning towards him from her bed. “There’s no one here, Ben, it's just us.”

Ben stretches out his senses looking for life signs, listening for footsteps. Nothing. 

“Ben? Are you alright?”

“I’m…”  _ I'm in the past. There is nothing now to fight. All of them are left behind in that other life. _ “I’m fine.”  _ I'm inside the home of Shmi Skywalker. It's 971 Ruus. I'm waiting for someone _ . “Im fine. Im sorry.”  _ Breathe. _ “I was lost in thought.”

“You were. I called to you several times but you wouldn't answer.” Shmi leans back into her bed. “Please don't do that again, you worried me. Are you sure you're alright?” 

“Honestly? I’m not sure myself. Would you mind talking while we wait? Being alone with my thoughts right now will not be doing me any favors.”

She gives him an understanding smile, “Of course. Anything in particular?”

“I never asked why we went to Twal instead of the medicenter?”

“Ah.” Shmi closes her eyes and Ben feels her trying to calm herself, a sudden spike of rage billowing up from deep within her. “All the medicenters are run by the Hutts. Anyone who goes there is liable to end up a slave.” She takes a in a deep breath wanting to get the whole story out at once. “They put explosives inside their patients without them knowing until it's too late. Many slaves have gone there to get their bomb removed only to discover a new one has been placed elsewhere. Those poor people are then handed over to the Hutts. Many ootman, offworlders, have fallen for the same trap.”

“I didn't want to take the chance. Twal is one of the best medics we have around here and just about the only one who's willing to risk bomb removal.”

Ben knew the Hutts were evil, even knew of their tendency to enslave whoever they could when they could, but hearing it from Shmi, feeling her anger and pity, gave the knowledge more weight. 

“I'm sorry.” It was all Ben could say.

“You're from Naboo yes? That girl seemed so shocked that we have slavery here. I'm not surprised you wouldn't be familiar with our ways.” She looked away as though she could see past the walls and to the rolling desert beyond. “Tell me about Naboo. What is it like? What happened with its occupation?” 

Ben relaxes into his seat. This story he could handle, the years had dulled the pain, and now it seemed so far away, like it belonged to another lifetime. “I don't know much about what happened before the queen returned to Naboo, but I can tell you about the Gungan battle and the retaking of the palace.” 

And so Ben began his tale, telling about the alliance with the Gungans, the droids forces, the internment camps, the queen taking part in the battle. His own role in the story was minimized, changing his own story to be that of a soldier in the palace, and any inaccuracies or things he should not have known were glossed over. Shmi wouldn't know either way.

“Your son got into one of the starfighters, joining the battle against the droid command ship. I'm told he was the one who landed the critical hit on its reactor core. If he had not done that the Battle of Naboo would have been lost. Once he took the ship down, all the droids fell, winning the day.”

“The Jedi who had come with the queen fought a separatist mercenary in the hanger. One of them was killed but the other managed to take him down.”

“The celebration was unlike any I had ever seen. The whole city came out for it. The entire Jedi council too. Even the Chancellor. Anakin had a place of honor at the queen's side during the parade. You should be very proud.”

By the time Ben had finished Shmi was sitting up on her bed listening with rapt attention like a youngling hearing the stories of the old republic for the first time. Every mention of Anakin made her smile, every twist in the story making her anticipation grow. Ben realized that the Shmi from his own world had never learned of the fate of Anakin, or Qui-gon, or Padme. They had simply left and she had to subsist off the hope that everything had worked out.  _ We truly were cruel to this woman.  _

“The Jedi, the one who died, what was his name?” Concern filled the air around her. She had met Qui-gon and he was the one who she entrusted Anakin to. Of course she would be worried.

“His name was master Qui-gon Gin. They held his funeral on Naboo. If I remember right, Anakin said he became the padawan of Gin’s student, a man called Obi-wan Kenobi.”

Shmi visibly deflated at that but before Ben could say more the sound of an approaching landspeeder startled them both. 

Shmi rose from her bed and headed to the door, all smiles and anticipation, her momentary sadness washed away. The man who arrives is somewhere in his late 40s, with sun bleached hair and the deep facial lines of all inhabitants of Tatooine. The moment the door is closed the two embrace, love and warmth and dedication swirling about them in soft waves. Ben adverts his eyes, the moment was obviously a deeply intimate one, meant only for them.

They part and the man's eyes land on Ben. He stares Ben down for a long moment and Ben gets the feeling the man is measuring him. Whatever he sees must be adequate though because soon the man was clasping his hand and pulling him into a brief hug.

“It seems I owe you alot my friend.” the man slaps his hand against his back. He steps back, hands on either arm, looking him up and down, taking in his ratty appearance. “This,” says Shmi pulling the man back to her side, “is Cliegg Lars.” 

“And this is Ben, he's the one who freed me.” 

“It is a pleasure to meet you Cliegg. ” Ben just barely stops himself from bowing.  _ I have to break that habit.  _

“We planned to get married once he had saved enough to get me away from Watto but now well…"

They shared another tight hug before she turned back to look at Ben. "I'm sure Naboo is a far nicer planet than here, but this is where my life is." Cliegg gives her a strange look, unsure of what she was referring. 

"I understand." He says with a smile. "The only thing I need to know is that you're safe and happy." Ben thinks about it, about Tatooine, the coming war, all the danger these two will face if they remain on such a lawless planet. He thinks of slavers, of Hutts, of Tuskens, and Krayt dragons. “Will you be remaining in Mos Espa?”

“No. She’ll be moving in with me at the farm. Moisture farming isn't easy but it's a damn sight better than staying here.”

“Ah then if you don't mind, I will stay for a few days and help you get settled. I must know that I did all I could to ensure your safety. Besides you still need to recover from your surgery,” Cliegg watches him, questions on the tip of his tongue, but none voiced. He could wait until everything was sorted. Cliegg was a patient man. Farmers had to be.

Shmi returned to bed, finally exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster endured over the last several hours. Ben was tired too but he didn't dare to sleep in their presence, scared of what his nightmares might inflict on the couple.

“It's going to take forever to get all this back to the farm. Twenty trips at least.” Cliegg says already taking a mental inventory. Ben makes a questioning noise and Cliegg continues, “I only have a speeder to haul all this back. Can only take a little bit each trip and it's going to take hours every time.”

Ben opens his mouth, probably about to say something reassuring but it's lost when his thoughts are overtaken by a vision. The world vanishes from sight and in its place the flat wastelands of Tatooine appear. On it is a destroyed speeder, it’s smoking, crumpled metal being picked over by Jawas. A distance away the bodies of Shmi and Cliegg lay broken and bleeding, Jawas around them trying to treat their injuries with what little they understand of human biology. Shmi cries out in pain, a shard of metal stabbed deep into her stomach, burns spread across her side. Cliegg doesn't move at all, lifeless eyes looking into the pristine sky of Tatooine. And further, Tuskens walk away, thrilled with their spoils, Shmi’s meager possessions making wonderful prizes for the raiders. 

Shmi cries and screams and pleads, looking into the glowing eyes of Jawas begging for help. They try and try and try but it's not enough. Blood is spilling around her, it clogs her lungs and fills her chest. Her injuries too numerous for bacta, too intricate for her would-be saviors.

She screams and screams and screams.


	4. Pack It Up And Let It Go

The vision ends the moment Shmi’s life does; covered in blood, face twisted with pain, blood beneath her like a blanket.

Ben finds himself staring into the brown floors of Shmi’s home, Owen’s arm wrapped around him. “It's okay son. It's okay. Just breathe. It's okay.” Ben's eyes are blurred with tears.  _ That can't happen. It can't. I won't let it. Shmi has to live. _

“Come on son, I need you to answer me. It's okay. I got you.” Cliegg pats his back rhythmically, trying to draw Ben back to awareness. Ben’s breathing is erratic, sharp gasps that fill the empty room. It was a vision, it had to be. He was awake and the Force whispered of possibilities.

It takes a monumental effort for Ben to turn his head and meet Cliegg’s eyes. His gray blue eyes. Blue eyes alight with life and concern. Not dead. Not lifeless. Not empty. Alive.  _ Alive _ . 

Ben reaches down into himself, grasping his panic and fear, separating it from himself and letting it go into the Force. The distress pours out of him like a stream, coating the very air around him. He lets the Force in, carving out the shadow that had taken hold, and allowing the light of Shmi’s home to fill him. The love between Shmi and Cliegg, the hope that filled them both, the gentle memories made over years between family. The light is perennial, its shine saturating every corner of existence, all he needed to do was let it in.

Ben's breathing steadies as the last of his intrusive feelings are released. Visions were meant to guide; the Force did not show him that to hurt him, but to help, to warn against possible paths and dangers. He just needed to calm himself and heed its warning. Everything was fine. He hadn’t failed yet. He could still fix this.

Ben allowed himself to be pulled back into a chair, Cliegg staying at his side in case he needed steadying. “Are you good? You blacked for a minute on me. Just toppled right over. Scared me half to death. Need some water?”

Water was rare and precious on Tatooine and Ben wouldn't have accepted even if he thought it would help. 

“No. No, I will be fine in a moment. This happens sometimes.” Ben rubs at his eye trying to ward off the headache that inevitably came with Force visions. This had not been near as painful as his last. At least this time he felt _ intact _ . 

“Uh-huh.” Cliegg muttered skeptically. “Seemed pretty painful to me.” He handed Ben a glass which Ben tried to politely decline. “Just drink it son.” He pressed the cup into his hand. 

“Son?” Ben asked between sips. “I don't believe I'm that much younger than yourself.”

“You're young enough.” Cliegg says flopping down into his own seat. “Besides you remind me of my son, Owen.”

Ben files that away for later, taking small sips of water, trying to parcel out every detail he could from the foresight. It's only when Cliegg hands him a rag does he realize he's still crying. He takes it with thanks, dabbing at his eyes. The tears wouldn't stop. 

It was overwhelming, that feeling of failure, of watching the person he tried to save die in pain. He knew that agony so intimately now. Cerasi, Bruck, Qui-Gon, Satine, Anakin, the clones, the entire kriffing Order! None of them! He had saved none of them! He failed and he failed and he failed. 

And it was always him who survived. Him who carried the burdens of the dead. Him who had to live with how he could never save the ones who mattered most. 

And now the Force was showing him just another instance of failure. Of losing someone he wanted to protect. 

But Cliegg is there, watching him with old, wise eyes. “Long day?”

Ben chokes on a broken laugh “Long life.”

“Yeah, that's usually how it goes. You've been through alot haven't you? I've never seen such haunted eyes.”

Ben says nothing, opting to deflect, “How’s Shmi?”

Cliegg doesn't press just answers “Still sleeping in her room. Day wore her out. You should get some sleep too. You look like you need it.” Ben could almost hear him say that refusing wasn't an option. 

The man wasn't wrong, Ben was exhausted, but he didn't dare sleep near people. Living with his nightmares was hard enough without having to worry about the harm he might cause others.

“I have a ship. It's a cargo ship and it will have more than enough room for all of Shmi’s things. I will sleep there tonight and tomorrow we can pack her things and I’ll fly you both to your homestead. The open desert is far too dangerous for me to trust that you will make it home safely.”

Cliegg’s eyebrows had drifted to his hairline, lips slightly parted. “Thats...well that's kind of you but we could never ask th-”

“On this I must insist. It is no trouble and it would help me rest easier knowing you were not in harm's way.”

As Cliegg began to sputter refusals, Ben swiftly made his way to the door. “I will return some time before midday.” He stepped out the door only to pause and look back at Cliegg who had followed him still trying to reject his offer. “Also, Twal said she would be stopping by sometime to check on Shmi. Till tomorrow then.” Ben ducked out of the house and all but ran back to his ship.

Piece-of-Sith was right where he left it, derelict and undisturbed. 

Ben rushes inside, not even waiting for the ramp to close, before throwing himself into the refresher. He climbs into the shower fully dressed, allowing ice cold water to wash over him. On Tatooine such wastage was nearly sacrilege, but his ship would recycle and purify it, so he didn't feel all that guilty. 

He wants to leave, to fly into space so that he could be alone, alone where his maelstrom of thoughts could not hurt anyone, but he can't. He can't leave. Not yet.

Ben sits at the bottom of the shower and gets as comfortable as he can, drawing himself up into a meditative pose. 

He had always been prone to visions. His time in the creche had been filled with masters and mind healers, all trying to help him parcel out what was important and to assuage his fear that the terrible things he saw would come true. But over the years he had fewer and fewer visions. By the time of the clone wars, visions for him were so rare that, if he had one, he was rather shocked, even though they usually proved themselves unhelpful in the extreme. Master Yoda had attributed it to the darkside which had clouded all the Jedi. 

And perhaps that was why he was receiving them so often and strongly now. This galaxy is still at peace. It had never faced the desolation and misery of war. Had yet to feel itself rot from the inside as corruption and greed and death destroyed it.

Ben felt the cold rivets of water running down his face and back. Calming him, like meditating in the room of a thousand fountains. The sharp sting of the cold and the numbness that followed clearing his mind. Visions were only possible futures, never guarantees. But even still, Ben was rattled. It was one thing to see vague images of things that could be and another to watch a woman who you were trying to save die in misery.

At least that future would not come to pass. He would fly them to their destination and they would not have to cross the desert, not have to risk being shot at by raiders, not be ripped apart as their speeder crashed. No, Ben was here to protect them from that. But it wouldn't be enough, not in the long term. He could not stay here to protect them forever, he had so much more to do. 

Ben left the shower, checking to see that his face was no longer puffy from tears, before changing clothes. He would forgo sleep for now, instead mediating and allowing his fears to be scrubbed away. He needed to be serene. He could not let dark imaginings rule him. He would do what he could. 

_ Do or do not, there is no try, isn't that right Master Yoda… _

He drifted into mediation, letting his mind expand beyond himself and feeling the life of the world around him. 

He arrived at Shmi’s home early the next morning, only mildly surprised to find Twal there helping to pack Shmi’s things. Most of the things had been squared away, and given the rings beneath his eyes, Cliegg had worked through the night. The three gave him a warm welcome and Shmi pressed a warm, seeded bread into his hand. “Eat.” Ben politely nibbled at his breakfast asking what was left to pack. 

“Well there’s still some stuff in the kitchen, Shmi’s room, and Anakin’s. Shmi figured you would want to do his in case there was anything you wanted to bring to him.”

“How considerate.” Another bite. “Yes, I would like that very much.”

“Thought you might.” Shmi says smiling, passing him, carrying a large box.  _ She seems in high spirits today. Good. _

Anakin's room was exactly as he expected, filled with parts for droids, podracers, and ships. Above his bed were shelves littered with gadgets along with what seemed to be hand carved replicas of starships. A desk was pressed against the wall, mechanics tools laid in an orderly fashion around the main work area. 

Ben sagged against the doorway. It was almost like stepping into Anakin’s room at the temple. Even the placement of his bed was the same. 

Ben had never given much thought to the layout Anakin had chosen for his furniture but now he could see that he had mimicked his home here on Tatooine. Everything he had selected from the temples stores had been as close as possible to what was in here, right down to the color. Ben had known Anakin missed his mother, but to see how he comforted himself by replicating his old bedroom, was gut wrenching. He must have missed his true home terribly.

Ben let the wall hold him up as he gathered himself. He would not be able to take much to Anakin, but he would bring as much as he could. He looked around the room to see what looked the most promising before he noticed that the pile of scrap in an alcove was actually a protocol droid. 

“After he was gone, I left his room as it was.” Shmi appeared in the doorway. “The Jedi said there was always the possibility Ani wouldn't be accepted so I didn't change anything in case he ever came back.” She ran a hand across a statuette of an alien. “After a while, I just couldn't bear to let go of anything that reminded me of him.” 

Ben stayed silent, watching as she picked up and set down various items. “But now I know he’s safe, that he's getting to live the life he wanted,” She looks him in the eye “that there are people watching out for him.”

“I think it's time to let some of this go. He’s out there living his life and it's time that I do the same. Take anything you think he may want, the rest I will give to the local children. Slaves have precious few toys.”

“If that is what you think is best.” Ben says with a slight dip of his head. Shmi turns to leave before Ben asks her “That protocol droid, in the corner, how did you get it?” 

“Ah. Ani built that for me. Wanted it to help me around the house but, well, let's just say it became a bit much.” She walks past him and starts up the droid and Ben is hit with another wave of nostalgia, and the beginnings of a headache, as a very familiar voice comes out of its vocabulator. 

“Oh, hello. I am C3PO, human cyborg relations. How might I serve you?”

“He's a fine droid, and it was lovely for Anakin to make him for me, but he is a bit fussy for a droid. Hardly can stand the sand.” 

“Sand? Dreadful stuff. Messes with my circuits.”

Oh yes Ben knew exactly how whiny this particular droid could be. “Well he can help us with moving everything to my ship, if nothing else.”

Ben packs Anakin's things away, selecting a few knick-knacks that he felt he would like. The model ships, a few tools, some of his blankets, and a few other things that would fit inside a small bag. By midday Shmi’s things are all taken to the ship, barely taking up any space in the cargo hold along with Cliegg’s speeder.

None make any comment at the state of his ship, despite it looking like it could fall apart at any moment. Ben thinks they are just too well mannered to point out the obvious. 

Shmi, Cliegg, and Twal leave, heading back to the slave district to say goodbyes, while Ben waits in POS, having prepped the ship for takeoff. Seeing C3PO has given him an idea, though if it's realistic, he will have to see. 

Some time later Shmi and Cliegg return, arms laden with gifts and tokens, Shmi red eyed and almost wistful. 

Ben raises the ship into the sky, wincing as it screeches and rumbles, until they are well over Mos Espa. He heads off in the direction Cliegg indicates, feeling the multitude of life signs from the city fade back, until it is only the three of them. 

Shmi and Cliegg both burn with excitement, their unshielded thoughts rolling over Ben. 

‘She was free. She was leaving. She was happy.’ 


	5. I Will See You Safely There

The journey across Tatooine was almost peaceful. Ben, Shmi, and Cliegg all crowded into the cockpit, watching the sands and mountains roll by. Occasionally Cliegg would point out some landmark or area to avoid.

“Over there, on that sand dune, you see those tracks? Sand People. They walk in a line so you never know how many of them there are. Dangerous. Mindless.” Cliegg turns to Shmi “They don't usually come by the farms but we got to be careful all the same.”

Ben grips the controls hard enough for the leather of his gloves to creek.  _ They can't be left alone, not out here. They need some sort of protection. _ Ben’s vision flashes in his mind, all blood and pain and shattered hopes. He stares out at the burning landscape, turning over his options, of which there were few. His half baked plan was becoming more preferable by the moment. 

They fly on, watching as the ocean of sand gives way to endless flatlands, broken every so often by a homestead. 

“Mines the one just up ahead.” he points to a small domed building in the distance. “The one with the vaporator by the front.”

How Cliegg could tell when every home looked the same was a mystery for Ben but soon enough he was landing. A man and woman emerge, dressed in simple clothes, echoing curiosity but not fear, though they don't approach the ship.

Shmi and Cliegg both head to the back and Ben joins them on the lowering ramp, feeling the dry heat fill the space. It would be a long time before he would be able to get all the sand out of the ship.

Cliegg is down the ramp first, calling out to the pair, “Owen! Beru! Look who I came across in town.” He takes Shmi’s hand, helping her off the ramp when it does not lower all the way. Apparently the two know Shmi, as they come over and the girl pulls her into a hug while the men speak to each other. 

“Oh Shmi I can't believe you're finally free. Cliegg hardly got the words out before he was taking off.”

Ben waits a distance off, watching the warmth and welcome that swirls around the group.  _ Yes, Shmi will be loved here. I have no doubt _ . 

Cliegg looks back and gestures to Ben, “And this fine gentleman is Ben. He's the one who actually freed her.” The group makes its way to him where he receives a handshake and a hug. 

“Oh it was the least I could do.” he says backing slightly away from the group. It did not feel right to accept their thanks, not when he originally did nothing to help Shmi or her new family. 

“Well it's more than enough for me.” says Cliegg joyously, slapping Ben across the back. “To me, your family for what you did for my dear Shmi. You will always be welcome here.” He gives a few more gentle hits before moving on saying “Alright, let’s get all this unloaded. Faster we get it done, the faster we can celebrate!”

With the five of them, including C3PO, the work goes by quickly. They put her things in the courtyard, making stacks that will be sorted and put away later. Ben brings in the last container while Cliegg backs his speeder back into their hidden garage. 

Ben joins the group that has gathered in the dining area, taking a cup of blue milk and dropping into a seat. The double suns of Tatooine were incredible in how much they seemed to drain one's energy. Owen and Beru disappear into the kitchen, intent on making some special dish to celebrate Shmi’s freedom. 

While they wait, Cliegg tells Ben that Owen is his son and Beru his girlfriend, how he had lost his other son, how the farm had been in his family for generations, how he met Shmi when he went to Watto’s shop to find some obscure part, how he was captivated by how fiery but gentle she was without saying a word. Shmi cuts in to say that she found it so sweet how Cliegg would gush about his children for hours if she let him and how amused she was when she first flirted with him that he became flustered and red faced. And on and on they went, talking and laughing and sharing their memories and love. It was captivating for Ben, to see how easily these two went together, how circumstance had not hindered their love by any measure.

When Owen and Beru returned with their meal the celebration really began. The family was not boisterous but they were certainly lively. Their conversations took many turns and soon Ben was telling his own fake story, weaving in his fake life with his real emotions. They asked questions and he answered the best he could, giving them shades of truth. 

The conversation turns to the future and their plans and Ben is unsurprised to hear that Shmi and Cliegg plan to marry as soon as possible. Beru shoots Owen a look that leaves the poor boy grimacing and the adults laughing. The soup they eat is spicy and delicious, as is the bantha steaks that follow. They talk well into the evening until the others leave to finish their chores, a farmer's work never done, leaving Shmi alone with Ben.

The two sit together drinking a tea that Beru had made when Ben mentioned how much he enjoyed the drink. It's rich and warm, perfect for the cold Tatooine nights.  _ I must ask her for some before I leave.  _

“Today was the best day I have had in a long time.” Shmi says, rising and moving into the courtyard, cup in hand. Ben follows her so that they are both standing beneath the clear sky. “I’ll never be able to repay you for what you have done for me.”

Ben looks up at the stars, marveling at their beauty. “And you will never need to. I freed you because you should be free, not to put you in my debt.”

From the corner of his eye he sees her nod before turning to face him fully. “You will be going to Anakin soon.” It is not a question; she already knows he plans to see him. 

“Yes, though it may be some time. There is a...a friend I have to pick up before I will have a chance to see Anakin.” Ben sighs. “I don't know how long it will take. It may take a few days, it may take a few months, they may not want to come with me at all. It may be a while yet before Anakin learns of your freedom.” 

She takes a long sip, closing her eyes, relishing the flavor. “It is fine. I know we will meet again. I can feel it.”

Ben looks at her, feeling as the Force rings true at her words. Yes, she would see Anakin again, but _ when  _ was unknown. For both of their sakes he would strive for it to be as soon as possible. 

“Shmi, I have something else I must attend to, but I promise I will return before I leave the planet.” There were a few things he needed to procure before he felt safe in leaving Shmi to the care of the Lars.

“There is nothing so urgent that you must leave tonight. I can tell you have not slept in a long while and I will not let you go until you have had a solid rest. Stay, and go in the morning.” She spoke with the tone of a mother, the kind that brokered no argument. Ben had no choice but to stay.

“Very well but I will be sleeping in my ship.” Shmi made to argue but Ben held up his hand before she could speak. “Please, I will not be able to sleep at all unless it is a place I am familiar with.”  _ A place where I cannot hurt you or your family _ . 

Shmi agrees and together they finish their tea in silence, watching the stars.

Ben returns to his ship, fully planning on doing another mediation, before he gets a nagging feeling. Shmi would notice if he did not sleep, would see how exhausted he was, and it would hurt their trust if he lied to her. He needed to at least try to sleep.

Ben gets into bed, dreading what his dreams would show him. Would it be Anakin again? Yellow eyed and hateful? He had thought of him so often in the last few days. Perhaps it would be Shmi, broken and screaming from his vision. Maybe it would be the clones, his friends mindless trying to kill him.  _ Or this...Or this.... Or this… _

Ben did not even notice when his eyes slipped closed and his mind wandered into the world of dreams, nor did he feel his body relax from its constant state of tension. 

It was only when he opened his eyes, long after the first sun had arisen above the horizon, did he know he had slept at all. 

_ No nightmares. No visions. _

Ben could hardly believe it.

Whatever dreams he had were lost to him, his mind forgetting them as unimportant.  _ He had slept!  _ And what was more, he had slept for a long time, a full night, uninterrupted. That had not happened since before the clone wars, since before stress and an unending list of things that needed his attention had taken over his life.

Ben was ecstatic. 

He could sleep. Even if it was only every so often, he  _ would _ have nights without visions of death and pain. 

Had other Force sensitives been about they would have felt his joy cover the land like a warm blanket.

Ben emerged from the ship, clean and re-energized, and made his way into the homestead. He found Beru and Shmi talking together in the hall. Shmi gave him a penetrating stare and was satisfied to see he had actually slept. 

“Are you off now?”

“Yes, I just wanted to let you know.”

“You're leaving? But you only just got here. We are all so pleased that you are here.” Beru says with an earnestness so pure Ben is taken aback.

“Yes, well, I have something I must do. It won't take all that long, I hope, so you will be seeing me soon. Perhaps when I return I can have more of that exquisite tea.”

Her young face alights, “Absolutely!”

Piece-of-Sith lifts off into the air and heads towards the nearest towns of Mos Eisley and Anchorhead.  _ Surely they have one there. _

Ben goes to Anchorhead first, finding a set of communicators, but not the thing he actually wants. Next is Mos Eisley, a town he can generously describe as being a hive of scum and villainy. Somehow, the city is even less hospitable than Mos Espa.

It takes some time, but he does find what he wants, though it would cost him every credit he had. But it would be more than worth it. 

_ If it manages to keep them safe, then price is no object. _

The seller was a human man, all fake smiles and shrewd eyes, and Ben had no doubt he would have been successful as a senatorial lobbyist. 

As it was though, the man was clearly untrustworthy. 

“Oh yes, he’s ready to go. Completely loyal, don't even worry about it. Trust me.”

_ Definitely untrustworthy. _

“Of that I have no doubt sir because,” Ben raises his hand to the sellers face, waving it as though to wipe away the mans untoward thoughts, “you will program him to my specifications and disarm any traps you have laid. He will function exactly as I expect him too.” The compulsion is strong, the man is not nearly as weak willed as he appears. 

“He will function exactly as you expect him too.” the man repeats, eyes glazed over. Satisfied, Ben leaves the man to his work. 

_ Mind tricks certainly have their uses.  _

The Jedi, as a whole, saw no issue with mind tricks, treating them more like very convincing arguments than the complete subjugation of someone's will. Ben was not  _ swindling _ the man, he planned on paying the full cost, but was instead ensuring that he himself was not swindled. Jedi often encountered people who had ill intentions and it was generally more expedient to will them away then get into a confrontation. And if their wills were overpowered, then it must mean that they didn't feel all that strongly on the subject to begin with.

The process of inputting the proper codes takes several hours, which Ben utilizes to meditate. Sleep had done wonders for his mental health and an additional bout of meditation would enhance its soothing effects. Traveling through time had wreaked havoc on his spiritual balance, and he was still far from perfect center, but he was no longer teetering on the edge of a complete breakdown. 

He could breathe. He could sleep. He could do this.

Ben searches the merchants thoughts as he works, ensuring that no deception is taking place. On this task, he was taking no risks. It had to be done correctly.

When the man finishes, Ben checks over his purchase with all the scrutiny of a council member, looking for any possible flaw. He finds no obvious ones and the merchant is still under his suggestion. Ben pays the full amount, watching with something akin to discontent as his wealth whittles down to zero. It was not the credits or the purchase that was upsetting but that he was as destitute as he was when he first arrived. Ben would need to make more credits but bounty hunting was untenable. He would need to find some other way to make credits.

Ben returns to his ship with his purchase, flying back to the Lars homestead. The double suns were dipping below the horizon when he landed, casting the sky and sands in a vibrant yellow. 

Shmi is the first to greet him, welcoming him back with a hug as though he had not been gone for only a few short hours. 

“So did you find what you were looking for?”

“I believe I did. Think of it as a wedding present.” Ben touches a button on his comm and out from the ship's hull comes an IG assassin droid. The droid makes its way over, red eyes rotating to take in its surroundings.

“I am IG-73. What are your orders?” 

“He’s fully programmed, with protocols to protect as primary and to help around the farm as secondary. He's also fully armored and already has his own blasters.” Ben looks to Shmi with a smile only to find her having backed away several paces.

“Ben this is...this....we can’t have this here.”

By then Cliegg, Owen, and Beru had all been altered to his presence, coming out of the dome in greeting only to be silenced when they see the menacing droid.

“Shmi, please, I cannot in good conscience leave you and your family out here without protection. 73 will ensure that you and your family are kept safe, beyond what any of you could do on your own.”

Internally, Ben was panicking. How could he get her to understand? How could he explain, without explaining, that he could fail in his mission to change events, that a war might spread across the galaxy, destroying everything in its path, that he would never be able to focus on his mission because a part of himself would always be worrying after her safety. 

He needed to know she was safe. For her sake. And Anakin’s. And himself. She needed to have this droid.

“Please Shmi. The galaxy is unpredictable and Tatooine is a harsh place. There may come a time when you need its protection.”

Cliegg had come forward, peering at the IG in blatant curiosity. “So...you think an assassin droid is what we need out here eh? Got to say, I didn't think you would take my warning about sand people so seriously.” He rapped his knuckles against the droid's chassis, flinching back as the droid's red eye spun to face him. 

“Cliegg, you have to understand, I know how dangerous things can get when you're as isolated as you are out here. I need to know that all of you are safe. So please keep him.”

“For an old soldier, right?”

“Soldier?”

“Shmi told me about Naboo earlier. About those damn corporate dopa-maskey kung trying to take over your world. I understand why you're protective.” Cliegg circles the droid, looking it up and down. “I'm only surprised that you would choose a droid.” he gives Ben a lopsided smirk, coming back to Shmi’s side.

“If you think it's best, then we’ll happily keep ‘em.”

“Cliegg!” Shmi says in half hearted exasperation. “You can't think having that thing here is safe.”

“I am 96.7 percent safe. As my keeper, I will do all I can in service of your family. I have a 99.2 percent accuracy rate as well as a 93 percent kill on impact rate.”

“Oh well _ that's _ convincing.” Owen mutters to himself, moments before Beru elbows him in the side. “Shush, it can hear you.”

“Correct, I can hear you.”

Ben resists the urge to pinch his brow.

“Other than his protective abilities, he's also been programmed to help with whatever tasks around the farm. So it's also like getting a farm hand. He can also-”

“Ben. Ben. Enough. You already sold us. It's good. We’ll keep him.” Cliegg says with raised, placating hands.

Ben was sure the breath he let out was audible to the others. They would be as protected as he could make them for the moment. He had done it. They would be safe.

“And now that that little drama is over, let's get back inside.” Owen says, already disappearing backing into the dome. Shmi huffs out a laugh, taking Beru’s arm as they walk back inside. 

“Here, come on down to the garage and we’ll get him all set up.” Cliegg says, motioning Ben down into the underground area. “Think Owens going to make some toasted womp rat for dinner, if you want to stick around.”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” 

“Ha! Never heard someone call womp rat  _ anything _ lovely before. Are all Naboo this polite or is it just you?”

“Oh no, it's all of us. It's the accent that really sells it you see.” Cliegg’s laugh is rough and short lived, but Ben feels his continued amusement as they head downstairs. 

Setting up IG-73’s specific parameters doesn't take long at all and soon enough he knows who he's supposed to protect, the boundaries of the property, and at what point he is free to engage a threat. Ben transfers over ownership and then the Lars are now the proud owners of an assassin droid.

Ben and Cliegg finish up and head to the dining room where the others have gathered and join in the meal. Ben eats his fill, though he finds that womp rat tasted about as good as could be expected, and relaxes into the family's genial conversation. 

“I need to be leaving soon.” Ben says towards the end of the meal. Honestly he doesn't want to leave, he hadn't felt this relaxed since before the war, but he didnt know how long he had until Ventress master was killed and the sooner he got to them, the better.

“That's too bad. You're the most interesting thing that's happened around here in a long time.” Owen says between drinks. “But I can't say I wouldn't mind getting back to normal.” Owen takes a few more sips before he notices Beru’s pointed look. “Not that I don't  _ like _ you here, it's just that, well, as my dad always says…” Owen’s words peter off as he looks to Beru for help.

“What I think he is trying to say is that we're looking forward to getting Shmi settled. It's been a rather hectic, emotional few days. But we wouldn't mind if you stayed a bit longer.”

Ben smiles. “It is a kind offer but there is something urgent I must do.” He reaches into his pocket, producing the two communicators. “I have programmed my number into it, so if you need to contact me for any reason, any at all, you can.” Ben drops the communicator into Shmi’s hand. “But more importantly, I'm giving this other one to Anakin so that he will be able to contact you. It's already encrypted so you wont need to worry about that.”

Shmi clutches the device close to her chest. “You do too much.” She whispers, fresh tears filling her eyes.

“Not at all. Only what's right.”

The meal finishes and Ben says his goodbyes. Beru gives him a box of that delicious tea and he receives a hearty handshake from Owen and a slap on the back from Cliegg. “Be careful out there, son. And come back anytime!”

He is making his way to his ship when Shmi’s voice stops him. He watches as she approaches across the flatlands, skirt bunched in her hand and lightly jogging toward him.

“Ben,” she calls, “I have something I need you to take for me.” 

In her hand are two necklaces, alabaster white with runes carved into them.

“Here,” she says, dropping one into Ben's hand, closing his fist around it. “These are japor snippets, it's said they bring you luck. Please, when you see Anakin, give him this one.”

“Of course. And the other?”

“The other is for you. You have brought much luck into my life, it's only right that you have this.” Shmi drapes the other around his head, letting it drop to his chest. It's warm to the touch, like it's producing its own heat. “Warm.” he says, pressing his hand to it.

“Japor ivory wood is believed to have a bit of Tatooine's essence within it, keeping it warm like the two suns. Take it with you, may it serve you well.”

“Thank you Shmi, I will treasure it.” Jedi were not meant to own things but Ben would make an exception in this case. After all, it was less like a possession and more like the embodiment of all he was trying to achieve. He could feel the thoughts she had put into the gift, her warm, hopeful emotions. Her gratefulness to Ben and her love for Anakin, all concentrated down into two little carvings. Yes, this would act as a reminder that the future could be changed. That he had saved someone.

Shmi reached up and brought him into a hug, which he returned. They stayed like that for a moment, both understanding that the other had intrinsically tied their lives together. Whatever happened in the future, their fates were bound in some way. They would be a part of the others' life forever. It was comforting in an indescribable way. 

They parted, words not needed, as Ben silently made his way back to his ship. There were no waves of goodbye or calls of good fortune because they had already been expressed in that single moment. Ben lifted the ship off, noting that Shmi had already vanished into the home. He rose into the atmosphere, watching as the homestead became a speck of white and eventually blurred into the planet altogether. He broke atmosphere, looking out into the vast darkness of space.

Shmi was free. Shmi was safe.

Now he had to save Ventress. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If ya'll couldn't tell, I have a favorite robot from the mandalorian and I just had to get an IG in this story somehow. Thanks for reading!


	6. Planning is the Hardest Part

Approximately twelve hours after Ben left Tatooine, a pirate ship was making its way through Hutt space. Wanted in several systems, these pirates were a formidable group, blood thirsty to the last man, but also indolent to a fault. ‘The only things worth taking are those that are easy to steal’ was their motto. So when they came across the wreckage of a cargo ship which was listlessly floating in the void, they couldn't help but be excited. A quick ID sweep showed that the old ferry was older than any man onboard and that an attached notice warned that the ship itself was no longer considered safe for space faring. The marauders had hoped for an easy mark, only to become quickly disappointed, as it was obvious that the ship had already been raided and left to drift through space in ruin. The crestfallen pirates continued on their way, grousing to one another that a new pirate gang must have entered their territory. They were wrong, however. The lone human within the ship did not notice only because he was far too lost in his own drama to take note of anything so insignificant as pirates.

Inside, Ben sat at the communal table in the galley with several datapads and flimsi sheets scattered about. A small holo of Rattatak sat floating in the air, a marker placed where Ventress’s castle was. Beside him was a cooled cup of Tatooine spiced tea, brewed but quickly forgotten. He shifted between them, looking at notes and fragments of plans, hoping that somewhere in all of his concepts was a viable plan.

Ben ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He knew Asajj was there and had a vague idea of what was going on Rattatak but that was it. Timing, locations, numbers; everything important in a mission was missing. He didn't have nearly near enough information to stage a rescue. 

Scrawled across a flimsi sheet was everything he knew about the situation on Rattatak. First, the planet had been at war with itself for a very long time. Second, the planet was controlled by several warlords, the full number of which was unknown, but he knew there were at least four. Third, there were civilian populations along with slaves and slavers in addition to the warlords underlings. Forth, Ventress and her master were not stranded on Rattatak. They could steal a ship whenever they pleased, instead they were staying because they were the  only ones who actually seemed to make a difference in the planet. They were working towards peace, trying to unite the people. Fifth, at the moment the pair would be acting as revolutionaries, essentially creating an army out of the grateful people they freed.

But none of this told him how many enemies he might face or about the greater political issues facing the world. The only thing he was sure of was that, if he didn't step in, Ky Narec would die and Ventress would Fall. 

Ben picked up one of the datapads, filled with partial plans. He had several ideas on how to retrieve Ventress and her master but each had its own failings. 

The first, and if he was honest, the least likely, was for the pair to simply leave with him. He would arrive, offer to take them to Coruscant, and all would be well. They get on, he flies off, and they leave the whole mess behind them. Ben could almost laugh at how absurdly optimistic the idea was. Ventress and Ky had devoted their lives to freeing Rattatak. They would never just abandon it now. 

Ben scrolled to the next possibility. Ventress had originally just incited a war and overthrown the warlords in his initial timeline. But that had come at the cost of her masters life as well as those who chose to fight at her side. Ben could do something similar, but the loss of innocent life was not something he was willing to risk, nor was the possibility of Ventress or her master dying in the ensuing battles. Ben had felt the death of enough Jedi for a lifetime.

Ben reached across the table to grab another flimsi sheet, this one filled with all the regulations regarding the Jedi orders rules for aiding a planet that Ben could remember. Another of his plans included covertly contacting the Jedi to ask for assistance in taking control of the planet. After all, one of its masters was there and could vouch for the situation. But it was a long shot. Rattatak was in the unknown regions and beyond the traditional jurisdiction of the order. What was more was that requests had to come from the planet itself or at least a governing body. Jedi could not overtake a planet simply because they disagreed with how it was run. They were keepers of the peace, not instigators of war, no matter what people had thought during the clone wars. 

And there was another reason Ben could not ask for Jedi aid, but one far more selfish. Ben knew, whether through the Force or just knowing his own heart, that feeling another Jedi die would probably unmake him. Someone he didn't know would be bad enough but if they sent Quinlan or Shaak or Luminara, or Force forbid, himself and Anakin, and they died...well he was already unstable and having to experience their loss again would be unimaginable. 

Ben got up and moved to the counter going through the soothing motions of making a new one of his teas from Eriadu, this time a tart green tea from Volusia. While he waited, he dumped and washed his other cup, regretting having wasted such a good drink. He leaned against the counter with his new tea, taking small sips. What he wouldn't give to have Cody or Rex by his side, or the 3rd system army for that matter. They had turned freeing occupied worlds into a science. Taking Rattatak would have been just another day for them. Ben lowered his cup as a pang of sorrow filled his chest. Even though he knew, in his heart of hearts, that Cody would never have tried to kill him, it was still painful to think about the man who had him shot down like a common enemy. 

He glanced at the table strewn with datapads and half made plans and sighed. If his men had been here they would have berated him for his messiness, Cody putting the filmsi’s into some modicum of order, before setting about making a plan. Obi-wan may have liked his living space neat but he had never managed to keep his desk clutter free. 

Ben could almost hear his men making plans of attack. Contrail would be saying they should just do airstrikes until they surrendered; Sly would suggest sending in small groups of clones to quietly take them out; Mask, Ca, and Thumb would probably want a full frontal assault on their strongholds; Waxer would be saying increasingly ludicrous plans for no other reason than to watch as Boil grew so frustrated with his antics that he blew up at him; Hiccup and Static would already be concocting mechanical devices that would take out the warlords without ever having to leave the ship. And Cody...Well Cody would probably come up with a plan that led to the minimal amount of casualties. 

Ben sighed, letting the brief fantasy go. His men were not here to help him. They were lost both in time and in will. Something had turned them against him, had ripped their individuality from them, stripped away the small amount of freedom they had. Because it wasn't his men who shot him down. No, when he looked inside Cody’s mind, he had not seen himself as Obi-wan but only as Traitor, as though Cody’s memories of him had been wiped away or obscured. His hands gripped the mug, knuckles turning white. And now he did not even know what had caused it. The Force had seen fit to rip him away from his own time and answers and deposit him where he had no aid and an invisible enemy whose name he did not know and whose existence he could not prove.

His breathing was coming out harshly through his nose, his lips pressed together, his jaw clenched so tight it was beginning to hurt. 

_ Anger. _

He was feeling anger.

Frustration had been growing inside of him. His lack of overall progress a needle digging itself into his brain. 

_ But anger leads to the darkside. I can't let my regrets and failures consume me. I can't. _

Ben inhaled sharply and found the budding seed of anger within himself and released it into the Force. Getting upset about such things now was pointless. He had to keep moving forward.

Ben took another sip of the cooling drink, focusing on the flavors, the scent, letting its newness and familiarity wash over him, letting it smother the unease which now so often entangled him. Ben turned his gaze back to the table, its disorder mimicking his own convoluted mind perfectly.

The problem remained a tricky ball of bad choices.

He needed to get Ventress and Narec out safely and that couldn't happen if they were fighting in a  _ war. _ He wanted the Jedi to be involved as little as possible lest they get hurt too. He also wanted to keep the civilians out of harm's way while also taking out a number of dangerous, armed warlords.

Ben gave into his habits and pinched the bridge between his eyes. 

What he needed was the GAR. An army. Taking a planet by himself was impossible.

_ Stars how I miss Cody. _

Ben looked up to stare at the hovering display of Rattatak and wondered how he alone could stop several people across the planet simultaneously when the image of a helmet flashed into his mind. 

Jango. 

Jango and bounty hunters.

Private, skilled, experienced. No questions asked and nothing that could compromise his identity or the safety of those he was trying to protect. The closest thing he had to the grand army.

They would be  _ perfect _ .

If he was able to hire bounty hunters to take out simultaneous strikes on the warlords and their underlings, then there would be nothing stopping peace from overtaking the planet. Ventress and her master would be free to leave, secure in the knowledge that the world was safe.

_ How in the Force had I not thought of that earlier? _

_ And if Jango accepts the bounty… _

Ben placed his knuckles to his lips in contemplation. Taking out the warlords would leave massive power vacuums. But Ventress and Narec had been working with the natives for a long time, surely they would know which of their number would make worthy rulers. 

Ben thought about the warlord he had met during his escape from the dungeons. He remembered his story of assassinating Ventress's master to stop the peace they were bringing. All that stood between a peaceful Rattatak, a freed slave population, and a safe Ventress were violent, cruel warlords. But even the warlords were living things. He didn't want them killed, he would have them captured and given to the people. Ben may not like the warlords as individuals but all life was sacred for Jedi. He would avoid their deaths if he could.

Ben leaned back into his chair with a huff and spoke into the empty room, “Well that's all well and good but that is absolutely impossible without millions of credits.” He stared at the metal ceiling as though his answer would be written there.

_ I suppose I could access the temple's accounts... Or perhaps offer them whatever riches the warlords had amassed? And I've certainly never known a bounty hunter to take a job for free…  _

_ Taking my own bounty hunter jobs will take far too long to gain the needed funds. A loan from the Hutts? The banking clans? _ Ben almost laughed at the absurdity of taking a loan from those thieves. 

W here could he get credit quickly without committing overt crime or putting himself in undue danger? Perhaps he could simply take it from the Hutts, after all their wealth came from illegal business, but that would put a price on his head and that was the opposite of what he wanted.

But Ben was from the future, he knew more than most. His future knowledge must hold some hidden bounty. 

_ There are several abandoned Jedi temples I know of, all of which had only been rediscovered because of the war. Perhaps selling some of those lost artifacts to the temple would be enough... _ But the more Ben thought about it, the worse the idea became. Not only did it feel wrong to think about bartering the Jedi’s history back to them, but also the process would take far too long. Just the process of authentication would take weeks, if not months, let alone the actual deal. It would also put him on the Jedi’s radar and he was unsure if his shields would be enough to hide his identity from people like Yoda and Mace who had known him his whole life and who had a formidable connection to the Force.

Ben returned to the table still trying to think of a way of making his insane bounty hunter idea a reality. It was while he was pouring over a galactic map to see if there were any possibly sympathetic planets nearby that wouldn't mind funding his endeavor that he saw the inconspicuous planet of Formos. 

Just outside of Hutt space and far, far from Rattatak, Formos would otherwise be of no interest to Ben, except for the minor detail that only two months ago in his own time, he and the clone army had taken control of the planet. And there was a boon there now that he could take full advantage of. 

Tylo Tamont Halcorr was a greater lord of Formos and was the embodiment of everything wicked in the galaxy for Ben. He was a mogul who ostensibly made his wealth from the high tariffs he collected from the hyperspace routes that overlapped his planet. But the reality was that Halcorr was heavily involved in the processing and transporting of illegal spice, acting as a distribution point from the notorious nearby planet Kessel. Formos itself was a deplorable, sordid place, boasting more smugglers than citizens. But what made Halcorr worse was that all of his processing houses were manned by slaves. Ben knew this because only a short time before Utapau, he and the 212th had been sent to arrest the man.

For the most part, the Republic was indifferent to Formos’s affairs, regardless of the sentient rights violations that were happening there. They only became involved once it was discovered that many core freeborn people had been kidnapped from a leisure vessel and forced into slavery there. As though slavery was acceptable so long as one was born into it. 

When the clones had arrested him, they had sliced into his personal files, getting datapacket after datapacket of his illicit activities. Among them were his myriad of bank accounts, spread across the galaxy, holding more wealth than some planets. And as it would happen, Ben remembered several of the codes to those accounts, having seen them only a month or two prior and having written more than half a dozen reports on the operation. 

All he needed was a few unmarked credit chits and Halcorr’s personal terminal and he was almost assured the wealth he needed. He would then free the slaves or help them fight back if they chose. He would even make a report and send it to the senate to ensure that Formos was overseen, punished, and regulated accordingly. 

And it wasn't truly stealing because, just like the Hutts, the credits came from crime and misery. And it would help so many, the people of Formos and Rattatak, more than Halcorr would have ever done. 

_ Having to make justifications for your actions is a slippery slope Ben. Remember that. _

_ I know. I know. _

It was probably a bad sign that he was answering himself in his mind but that was the least of his worries. Ben downed his last bit of tea and headed to the cockpit. It seemed like he had another spice operation to destroy. 


	7. Formos

Ben pulled his head wrap tighter as he made his way through the streets, the smog of Formos so thick he felt heavy in his lungs when he breathed. The city he was in was like many, overcrowded and suffocating. It did not have the high towers of Coruscant, but its buildings were oppressive all the same, built so close together that every walkway felt like an alley. 

He was making his way to the local guild office to gather information on Halcorr, if only to make sure it was more or less the same as what he had in the future. After all, ten years could change alot. Thankfully, Ben knew that some things were definitely the same. Halcorr was a lord just like his father and grandfather and he had happily joined the family business at the tender age of 15. Ben did not recall his exact age from his time, but he was probably in his early to mid-40s at this point. He more than likely lived in the same compound and had the same base of operation. All Ben needed was confirmation, and where better to get information than the guild. 

Ben did not even pause when he entered the run down building that was the guild, immediately going to the holonet terminal to search the man's name. Despite being a criminal, he was still a noble, and so he could not escape the plethora of free-to-access knowledge about his family and lineage. And if the man's pompous and entitled attitude when they arrested him told Ben anything, it was that he was very proud of his history. 

The search turned up several news articles, mostly about his lavish holidays on some distant world, but a few showed his home. It was the same pyramid-like structure made of colored panes of reinforced transparisteel, traditional glass being far too delicate to withstand attack, looming over the city. The compound was not wide, but tall, and Ben knew that it had several levels below the surface. The more nefarious parts of his operation happened elsewhere but he kept all his valuable knowledge in his well protected home. At the top, in his personal penthouse, was his main terminal and Bens goal.

The search also showed that the man had no outstanding bounties which was odd given his profession. Even Hutts on occasion had a foolish hopeful put a bounty on them, though it always ended with the hirer turning up dead and the bounty being voided. Someone really wanted Halcorr safe. _ Odd. _

Ben abandoned the terminal and went in search of the local broker, who he found to be a large, older man who was kept sequestered in a back, private room. Ben would be forgiven for thinking the man a Hutt at first glance, as vast and slovenly as he was. But Ben had traveled the galaxy and seen his fair share of the differences in life. Bail had once commented that he was far from shallow and today would be no different. 

Very much wanting to bow, Ben settled with a head nod, “Greetings.”

The brokers' small eyes drifted to him and then away “What do you want?”

“I seem to be in need of armor and ordnance and I was hoping you would know where I might get some cheaply, if not free. I have found myself with few credits.”

His eyes returned. “And what? You think I'm just going to just give you these things?” he said, a smirk pulling at his lips.

“That is my hope.”

There was a silence before the broker barked out a laugh. “You got some brass ones on you, don't you little bastard. Fine. Lots come through here for jobs and never come back. Take whatever you want.” He input something into a datapad and soon another man arrived. “Now get out.”

Ben followed him to a large room that was full to bursting with the remnants of bounty hunters that had come before him. For a moment Ben was shocked that the broker would allow him to take from the store pile until he noted the quality of the items. Clearly they had sold off every valuable piece and kept the scrap. 

“Shit, the lot of it. But beggars can't be choosers, ey?” The man's amusement was evident in the Force. “It's the kark we give to the newbie guards. It's fun to see how long they'll hold out till they just buy their own or die.”

“On the contrary, this will do just fine.” he answered, the pinnacle of Jedi serenity and acceptance. He lowered himself down and began digging through the pile of abandoned armor sets, noting the integrity of each set and whether it would hold against even a single blaster bolt. It was no wonder guards died, most of this was worthless as armor, he would be better off wearing a waste bin for protection. Eventually he settled for just something that would fit him, he didn't plan on being shot anyway. 

He then moved to the pile of helmets. It was eerie to see them scattered about, as though heads were still within them. The helmets he took his time with, wanting to find the best of the lot and one which did not make him want to gag from the residual smell of its previous owner. Once he found a serviceable one, he quickly removed his head covering and pulled the helmet on, watching as the HUD kicked to life, covering the world with blue words and stats.

Last was blasters and blades. If he was going to play the role of self respecting bounty hunter, he had to look the part. He took what he could carry discreetly; two sidearm blasters, another vibroblade that hid in the small of his back just above his lightsaber, and one larger blaster that he slung over his shoulder. 

The guard still stood in the doorway, watching him. But when Ben reached out to see what his thoughts were, he found them curiously closed off, as though the man was purposely not thinking. “Well I've got all I need, shall we go?”

The man did not move and just looked down at him. “Stewjon?”

It was only due to years of Jedi training that Ben did not tense. He looked the man in the eyes and forced his entire will into the statement “No, it's dyed.”

The man froze, eyes glazed, staring into the middle distance. “It's dyed.” Ben knew he would believe that for as long as he lived and Ben almost felt bad for making one of the absolute truths of the man's universe be that his hair was dyed but Ben was loath to think what the man was going to do if he learned the truth. 

Ben left quickly after that, not wanting to linger a moment longer than he had to. Now that his face was covered and he had some protection he was ready to infiltrate Halcorr’s palace. 

As he made his way through the dank city, Ben pulled the Force close to himself, wrapping himself in it like a blanket, distorting passerbys perception of what was there. It did not make him invisible but instead was a constant push for people to  _ Look away. There's nothing there. It is exactly as you expect it to be _ . A complicated application of the Force, it encourages people's eyes to slide off one's form like water, never allowing the mind to interpret what it saw as being a person or out of the ordinary. The skill had fallen out of fashion in the temple, save for the Shadows, before the war, but once Sith began to pop up it became a necessity to hide oneself as well as possible. It was the same reason Ben had to have incredibly strong shields, lest Dooku or Ventress easily enter or notice his mind. But Ben couldn't hold it indefinitely. It took far too much energy. He needed to move fast. 

He would use the terminal to gather what he needed and to find the locations of the slave work camps. For this portion he had to be clandestine, alerting no one to his presence. Ben did not know how Halcorr would retaliate if he was discovered but it would surely be unpleasant and counterproductive.

Ben slid from shadow to shadow, darting between the narrow allies until he was staring at the walled border of the Halcorr compound. It was lightly manned, a handful of guards on its parameter, though none seemed to be taking the job seriously, talking and aimlessly moving about. 

_ And why would they? They know nothing of the coming war, and everyone on Formos knows better than to attack. This is basically free time to them. _

Ben remembered when the GAR arrived, him staring down at the pyramid from the Vigilance’s bridge, watching as LAAT’s descended like angry insects. At that time the compound was all but a fortress, reinforced and armed with the best the separatists had to offer. Inside, Halcorr held hundreds of slaves and civilians as hostages, ensuring that his home wouldn't be bombarded from space. The guards then were anything but relaxed, ready to kill and be killed in the service of the crime lord. Many men died that day.

Ben pushed the memory away with a sigh, it was a distraction. He pulled the Force around him tighter, pushing his will into it so that it would hide him from their eyes. He calmly walked out from the shadows and approached the wall, avoiding the gazes of the guards. 

He leapt, flying high above the wall, landing on the roof of a building within the compound. Ben continued on until he was standing before the pyramid. Infiltration was proving far easier when there was no ray shield preventing entry. He briefly considered simply cutting through the transparisteel with his saber but thought better of it in case the building had even half the sensors it did in his time. 

He moves along the outside, finding one of its many hidden doors. Ben did not have any particular talent when it came to technology, but a lock was a lock and that he could open. He used the Force to unlatch the mechanisms, watching as the glass pane swung backwards into pitch dark. He glanced around himself quickly before ducking inside, closing the door behind him.

Wherever he was, it was completely black and utterly silent, even the air traffic noise from above was gone. But Ben didn't need to see to find his way. He cast his senses out, feeling the ebb and flow of the Force, feeling the life signs of those around him. He was alone for now. He moved forward slowly, trying to discern if there was anything in his way. His fingers twitched to grab his lightsaber, if only for the illumination, but just because there were no life signs did not mean there were no cameras. Waving a lightsaber around would get him identified as Jedi immediately and that would draw more attention to himself than he would risk.

He walked forward and soon hit a corner, then another long hall and another corner. The floor was also angling upward.  _ Probably an escape route...I wonder if we knew about this before… _

Once he was probably several stories up, he finally came to the end of the walkway. Light streamed in from beneath what was clearly a door, but it was the room beyond that had his attention. It was full of people. Ben could feel probably around thirty, if not more, all in various states of concentration. Whether he would be able to deceive them all was very much up for debate.

He cracked the door open just barely and waited for an outcry or an alarm but nothing happened. He then edged the door open just enough to peer into the room. It was an office. Desks spread across the room, broken into sections by dividers, every cubicle hosting someone hard at work. It reminded him of the lower offices of the Judicial Forces, all bland monotony and datapads. 

_ It seems as though he is still keeping up the guise of dutiful lord, carrying out the minutiae of day to day governance. I must be in their emergency exit. Okay, this is still workable, I just need to ensure that no one looks this way.  _

Ben backed away and took several deep breaths, releasing them slower each time. He slipped down into his mind, letting go of all other thoughts than finding his center. He drifted down, losing his anxieties and aggravations, feeling them drift past him like a breeze. He needed to be calm and focused. So many people would put a strain on him but it only needed to last for a few moments. He could do this.

Ben pulled the Force around him once again, letting himself fade into an enigma of an impression. And then with utter calm and surety he pushed his will towards the minds in the room, slipping past their unshielded thoughts to plant the seeds of  _ don't turn around, focus only on your screen, there is so much to do, don't let anything distract you _ . Ben opened the door fully and stepped into the bright office. He didn't dally, moving swiftly to the only door in the room. No one looked at him, completely engrossed in their work. 

The hallway was empty and Ben let his tight concentration relax.  _ That was uncomfortable _ . Ben couldn't sneak through the whole of the building like that, he would eventually meet someone whose will was strong enough to not be overcome. His eye went to the ventilations shafts but they turned out to be far too narrow. 

_ Just have to get up there the old fashion way _ . 

Ben went to the end of the hall to the lifts. He opened the lifts doors, looking down into the vertical fall below. He would need to climb. He jumped and grappled onto the iron cord and began to pull himself up.

He went as high as he could go stopping before another set of doors. He threw his hand out and the doors slammed open.  _ That may have been too much force _ . He angled his back and threw himself forward, landing in a crouch in yet another hall. But here the Force was whispering.  _ This way. This way. Here _ . Both a pull and a push, beckoning him forward. It was unnerving to have the Force behave so strongly. Ben had always known the Force and felt its aid but never so directly as this. Over the last weeks it had doubled in presence, guiding him more forcefully than ever before.  _ How odd. _

_ Here _ it said in front of a door. Ben went to touch the handle but was stopped by voices on the other side.

“Yes sir. Spice shipment is up and we’ll have that whole sector flooded in no time.”

“That's good to hear. And what of our friends on Coruscant?”  _ Halcorr _ !

“Their distribution channels seem to be in good order and just waiting for the next drop off.”

“Excellent.” the sound of movement. “We're going to have to get some more, heh,  _ workers _ if we ever hope to meet demand. Those scum just can't get enough of this stuff.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Those damn core worlds won't know what hit them. It's all so  _ easy _ . Damned fools.” 

“Yes, Sir...Sir, the meeting for the air traffic memorandum will be beginning shortly.”

“Tsk, yeah, fine. What do I even pay those people for if I still have to go to these unless meeting? Ridiculous.” 

“Yes, sir.”

More movement, coming closer. 

Ben rushed to the opposite end of the hall and threw open a door, driving inside right as the other one opened. Ben didn't dare move and so used the Force to push the door closed behind him. There were still voices in the hall, muffled now where he could not pick out any words. Their signatures moved away, heading towards the lift. Ben huffed out a small laugh and rose from the floor. It was an empty lounge but completely uninteresting to Ben. He waited until Halcorr and his associate had descended in the building before he went to the office they had just vacated. It was the same as before, just as lavish and antique as he remembered, though it lacked the dead bodies and scorch marks from his last visit. 

The terminal was exactly where expected and Ben sat in front of it lightly, ready to bound up at the first sign of trouble. The access code had been a string of numbers which surely were of some importance to Halcorr but Ben had never bothered to ask. He typed them in now, begging that the Force see the task though, hoping that Halcorr was not the type of man who worried about security and passwords.

**Loading...Loading...Welcome…**

_ Thank the Force! _

Ben plugged in several datasticks, copying every file on the terminal onto them. Every single piece of data could be useful in bringing down the smuggling ring, he couldn't risk leaving even a single thing out. The process would take several minutes to complete, in the meantime he would make the transfer of credits to the chit datastick. This was where it became tricky. Usually he would leave such tasks to the more knowledgeable clones but that wasn't an option at the moment. He would just have to chance it.

Like most business and banking, transfers came over holonet, but someone like Halcorr would have his wealth behind several safety measures. Ben had overcome the first by getting access to his personal terminal, the next would be logging into his account to make a transaction.  _ It's a good thing he's already in the black market and uses unmarked credits to do business or this would be much harder. _

Ben was going to be turning Halcorr in very soon so he wouldn't transfer his entire fortune. All he needed was a few million, not enough to be suspiciously noticeable but just enough to hire A-Class bounty hunters. Ben typed in a password and watched with something akin to dismay as the password was rejected.  _ Blast! Okay, lets try another _ . Another rejection flashed on the screen.  _ Not good. _

Ben leaned back in the chair, trying to place his hand to his chin only to be stopped by the helmet. He let out a put-out huff and sunk deeper into the seat. He had been standing just behind this very chair not long ago, watching as Cody, Crys, and Trip-switch spliced their way into the man's files. He remembered reading through the lines of numbers and aurebesh, watching as locked databases opened before them. 

_ Think, Obi-wan, think. What were the passwords.. _ .

He let his mind drift into the memory, pulling up line after line of symbols.  _ No. No. Maybe. No. Tried that one. No. Maybe. No. Tried that one too. _

How many chances did he have before he was locked out? Would the next one have to be correct or else the whole mission become a failure? What would he do then?

_ “Concentrate on the moment, my young Padawan. Feel, don't think. Trust your instincts. The Force will guide you.”  _ Words spoken so long ago and still remembered so clearly.  _ Yes master. _

He stopped thinking. Stopped wondering. Just felt. He had the answer, he just needed to find it.

The memory of a screen ran by, words streaming in lines, fingers pulling apart hidden codes.  _ No. No. No. _ More words. More numbers.  _ No. No. _ A line, short. A name.  _ There. _

Ben typed the name in, watching the letters fill the empty field. Enter.

**Welcome.**

A grin split Ben's face as he began moving credits to the chit.  _ Oh yes. This will be more than enough. _

Everything was finished quickly, the data transfer complete and more credits than he had ever owned. He now had everything he could hope for on Halcorr and several million credits to his name. _ Now to free the slave camps. _ Ben went to the balcony looking over the smog covered city and leapt. 


	8. Dont Think. But If You Must, Dont Feel.

Far from any city, nestled below the towering stone spires of Formos, Ben looked out at a massive complex. Gray and utilitarian, it stretched a mile in every direction, like a sickly blight upon the land. The once uncultivated stone forest had been leveled, paving way for landing strips and cargo holds.

But worse was the malignant aura the place leaked into the Force. Like a putrid wound, it defiled and infected the very air around it, turning the human made valley into a pool of misery. It was a place of suffering and greed. Even from a distance he could feel the life signs of hundreds of miserable souls.

It was sickening to know that this was just a single base of operation. They had dozens of these complexes spread across the system. But he couldn't get to them all, not on his own. He would have to trust that the senate and the Jedi would not abandon these people. He would do what he could here.

Ben darted forward, speeding across the barren landscape until he was standing within a shipping exit. Inside were several nondescript ships and a myriad of people. It wasn't hard to spot the slaves. They pushed repulsor lifts laden with packs spice up into the ships while the smugglers stood around shouting orders and talking amongst each other. The slaves wore collars, red lights flashing along their edges.  _ Electric or explosive _ . For a flash Ben thought of Bandomeer, of the feeling of knowing that death was wrapped around your throat, of the suffocating feeling of steel bearing down, the emotional weight chipping away, breaking your spirit. He thought of terrified Togrutas, huddled together, running shaking fingers across fresh burns. He thought of himself and Rex, sequestered away from the others, signing to each other their desperate hopes of rescue before they could be completely broken.

Ben tasted blood. But now was not the time for anger. He had a mission.

Ben took out a holorecorder and directed it at the loading bay, giving special focus to the faces of the men who were complicit in the operation. He recorded what he could of the ship's models and the size of the spice pallets. He filmed the slaves, hunched over, moving in trudging lines, silent as the dead.  _ Please, hold on for just a bit longer.  _

Ben moved deeper into the complex, ducking through halls and across catwalks until he reached one of the main packing rooms. Here lines of slaves worked packaging spice into bricks to be transferred. Other lines seemed to be grinding the drug into fine powder and filling inhalers. The line directly below him was packaging the spice into medical injectors, an illegal knockoff of the medicinal versions of spice that was used for pain control on the incurably ill. Ben could hardly contain his anger. These monsters were going to sell these knockoffs to the desperate and it would kill them, the dosage addictive and lethal. 

_ Everything about this place is sickening _ . From the glassy eyed slaves to the drugs to their intended destinations. All of it would have to go.

He counted the number of slaves and the approximate number of spice products, all the while constantly releasing the rage he felt into the Force. He could only hope that no one near was Force sensitive or they would certainly feel him.

Guards walked between the lines, triggers in hand, looking for any reason to set off the electric shock in the collars. A few times they did it just because.

Ben was disgusted.

He knew that these people would not be helped for several years if everything played out as it had. They had suffered here, barely hidden, and no one did anything.

He had not taken part of the slave rescue as he was capturing Halcorr. He had seen the mission reports and had seen the slaves when they were brought on board. They did not have the same physical injuries as the Togruta, but they had the same hollow stare. Ben felt their anguish and anger, their shock at being free and their desolation for those who never made it. It was always the same. What emotion can be transcribed to a person who had gone through the greatest of emotion, physical, and mental pain?

Ben moved the holorecorder above the room, keeping it in the shadows of the overhead support beams.  _ This will act as undeniable proof of what is happening on Formos. People will no longer be able to claim ignorance of the suffering that happens in the darker parts of the galaxy. _ But Ben had been around the senate his entire life, had watched as they did nothing to help Naboo, seen their inaction during the war. And worse, if the Sith was influencing the senators so deeply, these people may never see aid at all. He would have to force their hand.

He trusted Bail and Padme to do what was right, but the senate was slow; he would need to do everything he could to get them to act on this.

He would send his information to not just the senate but to the public as well. CSN, Hypermedia Galactic News Service, HNN, Coruscant Daily Newsfeed, as well as a few more obscure sources. He would send it to them all. The public outcry alone should be enough to keep the senate from dragging its feet. He would also send it to planets who abhorred slavery and ask them for take the ex-slaves in as refugees. 

He waited and watched; observing guards, rotations, and number of shipments and recording it.

_ I need as much hard proof as possible. Guard numbers, faces, storage locations, rotations, shipments, slave conditions, all of it. The senate will not lack for evidence.  _

As he sat in the shadows watching, feeling, the slaves' misery, he thought about the Jedi. 

How much had they allowed to happen simply because it was politically inconvenient to get involved? Like Rattatak, the only reason he did not contact them immediately about Formos was because he doubted if they would actually help. For how long had they been governed by mandates that kept them from helping those that needed it? They were supposed to be the guardians of peace and order in the galaxy; defending and protecting  _ all _ sapient life, never attacking out of anger or selfish desire. So should not all people be offered their aid? It was the very premise on which their order was founded on.

Ben had only been on the council during war, he did not know what their discussions were like in peacetime, did not know what rules they followed to determine who was afforded their aid. But regardless, he could not imagine the Jedi simply turning a blind eye on evil of this magnitude. 

The Jedi were _ good _ . They did what they could to keep peace. They fought and negotiated and healed and taught and kept calm when all others panicked and fled. They carried the very Light within them. 

But there were so few of them, that was true. Spread across the entire galaxy, were a mere ten thousand Jedi for more than a hundred quadrillion people. Of course they could not address every wrong. But an operation of this scale? To allow it to go on for so long? Unconscionable.

_ No, it's not even about scale. It’s about slavery. Jedi have long overlooked slavery. Not to judge the customs and rules of planets. Having to always be impartial, always having to look away because if they got involved it would start wars. It was always politically inconvenient for them to intercede.  _

_ But for now I am not bound by the order. No reports, no oversight, nothing I do reflecting badly on the Jedi. I can help whenever, however I want… _

_ And I know the Jedi find slavery abhorrent, I know they wish to intercede, but they are to mired in politics. _

_ Perhaps Barriss was right. _

Her words echoed in his mind, her slight form surrounded by temple guards, staring down the Chancellor and the Council with conviction. ‘The Jedi are the ones responsible for this War. We've so lost our way that we have become villains in this conflict. We are the ones that should be put on trial, all of us! And my attack on the Temple was an attack on what the Jedi have become. An army fighting for the Dark Side, fallen from the Light that we once held so dear. This Republic is failing! It's only a matter of time.’

When she spoke them first, they had stung, not only because they accused the Jedi of losing their way, but because they almost rang with truth. He remembered sneering down at her, filled with disappointment and anger. She had almost cost his grandpadwan her life. She had succumbed to the darkside. She had killed innocents. She had shaken him to the core. Because perhaps she was right.

Her words haunted him for a time, whispering in his ear when some order came down that cost more lives than it should or as he tried to sleep to the sounds of E-Webs and gunships and the muffled cries of injured clones. But soon even those damning words had faded as he was pulled deeper and deeper into the cold realities of war. He had little time to think about anything more than the next battle, the next deployment, the next batch of troops, the next attack.

And here he was, aiding those who the Jedi and the Republic had turned a blind eye towards. Just like the all but enslaved clones. Just like Anakin. Just like Shmi.

Perhaps Barriss was right.

_ Damn it all, I can't be thinking about this right now. These people need me. Focus on them. _

But what if she was right about the failing Republic? What if she was right about the Jedi losing their way? What if she was right about everything? That they were the villains, trying to keep planets with the Republic even if they hated it, even if it made no sense. That they were an army fighting for the darkside. That they were complicit in atrocities, even peripherally. That they too had fallen into the Siths’ trap. What if she was right and that once the war was won, the Sith puppet master had the Jedi executed. What if the truth was right in front of him...

_ All of it just a game. _

_ Our lives. Our clones. Simply pawns _ .

_ ‘What if I told you that the Republic was now under the control of a dark lord of the Sith?’ _

Danger.

_ Sidious. _

_ ‘The dark side clouds everything.’ _

Danger everywhere.

_ I have to do something about it. I have to stay in control. _

_ ‘An army fighting for the Dark Side.’ _

_ They manipulated us! _

His hands were shaking. He stared down at them in anger.  _ Stop trembling. Stop. Stop. _ His heartbeat rang in his ears, keeping him from hearing the ragged rapid breathing that didn't pull in enough oxygen. 

_ You're panicking. You have to stop. Breathe, breathe. Focus. Focus. _

But he couldn't. His anger. His panic. His horror at the terrible possibility that the Sith machinations went beyond manipulating the war, that it sunk into the very foundations of the Republic, of the Jedi. 

_ It fits. It all fits. _

_ Sidious. _

Danger.

_ We are all in danger. _

_ Stop. Your spiraling. Stop.  _ **_Stop_ ** _. _

Ben looked down at the slaves. Picking out an emaciated woman, focusing on her hair, golden blonde, dusted with spice.

_ Focus on just that. Nothing else.  _

_ Focus on that. _

_ But the Sith! The Jedi! _

_ Sidious. _

_ I have to do something! _

_ Everyone is in danger and I don't have any control.  _

_ No proof. No names. No plans. _

Strands of hair, dirty and flat. 

Thin from stress and fear. 

Brilliant color smothered.

_ They are out there. _

_ Even now. _

_ Planning to kill us all. _

_ Sidious. _

Like wheat trampled.

Hiding a face that is filled with sorrow.

Her head moves.

The strands sway.

_ I need to do something. _

Spice shakes loose as she wipes sweat from her brow.

It drifts back down like perverse snow.

_ I need to do something. _

She hunches as a guard passes.

Terror stains the Force.

_ I need to do something _ .

She moves faster now.

Golden threads hang limp.

They would be like a wreath of sun around her head.

But she is here.

She is suffering.

_ I am doing something. _

_ I am doing something. _

_ I am here. _

_ Breathe. _

_ I am here. _

And like being awakened from a nightmare, Ben is back. The anger, the anxiety, it all falls away, pushed so far down it wont effect him. He cant allow it to. 

He has a purpose.

He is here. 

He is here when no one else is. 

He can save _ these _ people.

And he can save the next.

And the next.

No matter how times, how many lives.

He was the one who was here. He was the one who knew the truth.

_ I can stop the Sith. I have no other choice. I have people I have to protect.  _

_ And what I can do now is breathe. Breathe and focus. After Ventress is safe I will meditate. I will meditate and sort through my thoughts and feelings.  _

_ I can do something.  _

_ Just not right now.  _

_ Breathe.  _

Ben keeps his vigil until nightfall. Watching, counting, recording, pushing aside his worries. Watching as the slaves he had been observing all day are marched out and a new group is brought in. They are more energized, but it is clear they dread the task ahead of them as they make their way to their stations. New guards come as well, but there are fewer of them. Ben had seen enough. He had more than enough evidence to have this place demolished several times over. Now was the time for action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Wild Space was awesome. Hurt Obi-wan and Bail Organa? Sign me up.


	9. Escapes Are Never Easy

Ben rises from his position and calls back the holorecorder. He did not need his next actions to be documented. On the far wall was the sensor which controlled the lights of the massive room, activating when it sensed movement. Ben moved across the crosswalk, tore a piece of his sleeve off, and floated it down until it covered the sensor. 

He stretched out his hands, finding the Force signatures of as many guards as he could, grasping a little less than half of them. He would try to not kill them, they needed to answer for their crimes, but he would not allow this to continue.

The moment the lights went out, Ben struck. All of the guards he was holding were jerked to the floor, smashing into the ground in total darkness. Shouts of alarm and pain were drowned out by the calls of others wondering what happened to the lights.

“Someone go check that out! Get the fucking lights back on!” 

The slaves shuffled around, unsure of what to do as the guards blindly wondered around the room. Ben dropped to the floor, identifying the guards in the Force, rushing to the closest. He grabbed the man by his shirt while knocking his feet forward, using the backward falling momentum to slam the man into the floor. The air left the guards lungs in a whoosh, leaving him gasping for breath like a beached fish. Ben moved down the row to the guard behind him, striking the Falleen with an elbow to the chin, hearing the sickening crack of a broken jaw. The Falleen crashed sideways, landing on one of the slaves' work tables, knocking it to the floor and filling the air with spice dust. The slaves shouted in surprise, scattering away, adding to the chaos of the already nervous guards.

Ben was halfway to the next guard when the screaming started. In the darkness it was easy to see the arches of electricity emanating from every collar, coiling up and striking into the slaves throats. Illuminating their faces in a ghastly blue, accentuating every hollowed check and sunken eye as their mouths twisted into screams. They dropped to the floor, clawing at their necks, trying to tear the rings off. Around them stood the guards, the controls in hand, wicked eyes searching for the intruder in the pale, violently made light.

The slave's pain hit Ben like a tidal wave. Pain upon pain upon pain. So much fear. So much agony. They thought they would die here, shrieking, sobbing in the dark. Their families never knowing of their fate. Their dreams of freedom dashed. Their lives cut short in lashes of blue, shocks killing their nerves, stuttering their hearts. 

_ Not while I'm here. _

Ben pulled his blaster out, taking aim at the guards, firing into their center masses, trying to avoid the heart or lungs. The first two dropped like overripe fruit, sprawling into heaps on the floor. The next two were hit as well, but only one fell, the other dashing across the room towards another guard.

The other guards now understood they were under attack and began firing at him as well as they could, with only the illumination of shock collars to reveal his location. 

Ben watched in horror as they began firing arbitrarily into the room, striking slaves and other guards with abandon, hitting anything still standing that wasn't them. The slaves crumpled to the ground and Ben felt their lives slip away.  _ NO!  _ He couldn't let this go on. He couldn't have these people become a target. The lights kicked on as he tore the cloth from the sensor.

The guards could see their intruder now and began firing at him in earnest. He slid behind a table, knocking it backwards to give himself some cover. Around him slaves, squirmed and shouted, curled into balls as the electrocutions continued. They would all die soon if the shocks didn't stop. 

Hits rang out as bolts slammed into the table behind him. His meager shield would not last long.

He was about to look over his cover to take a shot when a hand wrapped around his ankle. On the floor beside him was a young man. The collar was still alight with static, but his eyes were completely focused on Ben, manic with pain and determination. “Free me.” he gaged out as a particularly strong current hit. 

Ben didn't have time to think, he simply tore the collar from his throat with the Force, watching as the man collapsed, gasping. Ben looked over the edge of the table, noting how close some of the guards were. He took several shots, punching through the guards unarmored bodies. 

Their shots redoubled and Ben was forced down again. The man was still there, crouched with him. Before Ben could say anything, the man had grabbed the other blaster from his holster, taking aim at the guards. 

The screams were dying down, the shocks stopping now that the guards knew where their enemy was. 

Suddenly an older Pantoran woman was skidding across the floor with them behind the table. She ripped the rifle off of his back and joined the man returning fire. “Get this karking thing off me!” she screamed, never taking her eyes off the enemy. Ben had the wherewithal to at least feign using his vibroblade to remove it this time, taking satisfaction in the clunk as the collar hit the ground. 

Together the three took out several more guards but they had created their own makeshift barriers, hiding behind their own tables. Between them were several bodies, most of them slaves, smoke drifting up from their wounds.

“Cover me!” Shouted the man, already darting out from behind their cover. Ben didn't have time to stop him, instead trusting in the man's plan, laying down cover fire as well as he could.

The man vanished behind one of the guards overturned tables but Ben couldn't focus on that long as a fresh wave of screams rose up around him. The guards had activated the collars again. They were running out of time. 

“I'm going to take the other side! Can you handle it here?” Ben shouted down at the woman who had ducked back behind their cover, venting the old blaster. 

She was unsure and Ben knew she was unsure even as she shouted back an emphatic yes. “Go! I can handle this!”

He would have to trust in her just as he trusted in his own men. “Okay. Ready. One. Two. Three!” At three he sprinted from his position, jumping over tables and crying slaves as he rushed towards the closets guard position. Blaster bolts flew around him, singeing his armor. He didn't dare use his lightsaber to deflect the bolts, and in his mind's eye he saw the bolts, saw them approach and miss, except one. He knew he could not dodge it. It _ would  _ hit him. He was almost at the overturned table when the shot slipped through the gap at the bottom of his chest plate, burning though his side. The air was knocked out of his lungs and a black edge appeared in his vision but he did not stop. He stumbled behind the table, using the Force to knock the two hiding guards unconscious. 

_ Blast! Of all things, this was the last thing I needed! _

The wound would have cauterized on impact so he wouldn't bleed out, but he couldn't leave it for long. He didn't have time to check how deep it was or even where exactly he had been hit as the guards behind another table noticed his presence. Ben shot at them, vaguely noticing his wound did not hurt as much as expected. _ Adrenaline is an amazing thing.  _

The fire fight continued, the sound of blasters creating a cacophony of noise, accompanied by the wails of slaves.  _ Forward. Forward.  _ Time slowed and bent. Each step could have taken hours or seconds, it was impossible to tell. A guard fell. Then another. And another. The screech of bolts diminished then stopped, making the silence more poignant. Somewhere in the infinity of the last few moments the slaves had gone quiet. Ben didn't move for a moment, listening, reaching out in the Force to see if any guards still remained.  _ Numbed hands. The acidic taste of vomit. The high of inhaled spice. Mystified slaves. A victorious man. Traces of pain. Hollow bodies. _ But no guards. 

Ben stood up, quickly dodging to the side as a bolt flew past him. Black speckles flickered behind his eyelids as he jostled his wound in a way that lit up his nerves. 

“Kaffas! Sorry ‘bout that! Though you were one of ‘em.” called out the young man from before. He was a few paces away and fast approaching, stepping lightly over fallen slaves and stopping occasionally to kick the downed bodies of the guards. When he noticed that Ben was starting to double over he rushed to his side, supporting him as his knees gave out. “What happened?” he asked as he lowered Ben to the floor. 

“Oh nothing too bad. They just nicked me below my armor.” he managed with a huff. 

“Oh yeah, sounds like great fun.” he said, reaching to remove Ben's chest plate. All around were moans of pain but also an overwhelming feeling of relief. Behind the man, several slaves and the Pantoran woman were scavenging what they could off the incapacitated guards and checking on other fallen slaves. They held the guards triggers to the collars, releasing the locking mechanism, dropping the devices to the floor.

“There we go.” the man said, setting his chest plate to the side. “Now lay back. Easy now.” He guided him down to the floor, speaking soft, encouraging words. “See? That's better, innit?” He did something outside of his sight, returning a second later. “So, why don't you tell me your name and what you're doing ‘re?”

“My name...my name is Ben and I'm here becau-” A cutting pain rips up his spine, making him want to twist away from the hands that he now finds holding him down. “Get-Get off me!”

“Easy! Easy. Sorry ‘bout that. Had to get your shirt off. Blast had it melted right into your skin. Didn't want you clenchin’ up.” The hands move away and Ben sees they are connected to the weary, sweat streaked faces of slaves. Ben sits up further, gritting his teeth against the shooting pain. Sure enough, a bit above his left hip bone is a coin sized hole, red and inflamed. Along its edges are threads of fabric from where the synthetic cloth had melted and fused with his flesh. “Lovely.” he says as he drops back to the floor.

“That's one word for it. It's not too bad overall, didn't burn to the bone. But ya definitely going to have a scar and you're going ta need some bacta and synthskin. Might be some nerve damage too.”

_ It could be worse. _

“Thank you, mister…?” 

The man lets out a small laugh. “Names Yand. And we don't have time to chat right now. Those guards will’ve heard all that. We got to move.” Yand moves Ben to a sitting position and he finds himself in the center of several hundred injured, angry, scared, excited slaves. 

He waits for the blame. Waits to hear the calls of anger and accusation. He looks into their reddened face, their eyes bright with tears and residual pain. The tang of blaster bolts and the stench of burned flesh wafts through the air. It was his fault some had died. It was his fault they had been electrocuted. His fault they had been shot by panicked guards. If he had a better plan, if he had moved faster, it might have made a difference.  _ If only I had tried harder _ . Words called back from a year and a lifetime ago ‘ _ Jedi only make things worse _ .’ And he waits and the silence stretches. 

Around the room, slaves are awoken, their words slurred and unsure. Some don't wake at all. More still lay spasming, their muscles contracting, unable to stop. And across every throat are red burns, some deep enough to reveal the fat beneath, a sickening yellow. Whimpers are heard as collars are peeled away, tearing skin off with them. 

_ It's all my fault. I should have done better. It's all my fault. If only I ha _ -

“Well Boss? What's the plan?” Yand asks beside him, glancing between Ben and the gathered slaves.

Ben begins to respond when the Pantoran woman pushes her way to the forefront of the crowd. “We've got fifty nine blasters including yours, a few blades, eight batons, plus some credit chits, a bunch of comlinks, and some usable boots and shirts. What's next?”

_ How direct. _

“Well that depends on what you all want to do.” He figured the slaves would want to flee as soon as possible and he would go section by section freeing people by himself. Afterall, it was his lack of a plan that got so many of them hurt in the first place, but perhaps they would aid him regardless. “I plan on freeing every slave in this facility. You can come with me if you want, or you can try to get out on your own, or you can stay in here.”

“And just wait around for them to come in here and get us? Not happening.”

“I have to get my wife!”

“Please, I don't want to die here.”

“Lets kill them! We have to kill them!”

“What about the others? We can't carry them.”

“I don't want to go alone. Don't make me go alone!”

“Whatever man, let's just go.”

“Yeah! Forget the others!”

“That's bantha shit and you know it.” A man pushes forward, all scars and rage. “Just you?” he spits on the floor. “You probably wouldn't make it out of this room.” 

“I have to agree with ‘em Boss. You got quite an injury here. I'm surprised you're still conscious.” 

“I can assure you that I have fought through much worse. Besides, I must be on my way before the guards have time to rally.” Ben edged himself up, using a table to steady himself. “And it's Ben.”

Once he was standing, he tried to put weight onto his left leg, wincing. His leg felt heavy and unresponsive, like it was moving underwater and the throbbing pain that encircled his wound grew tenfold.  _ That wont do at all.  _

Ben closed his eyes and focused on the stiffness of his leg, then the pain that was radiating out from his hip, and then the wound itself. A round hole ripped into him, burrowed into his flesh. It wasn't terribly deep, some bolts can pierce right through armor, but it was the burn that extended past the wound, the part that was cooked flesh inside of him, that was a torment. Seared, weeping plasma, the skin blackened at the edges. It was terrible. Painful. But it was only a physical feeling. Nothing more than his brain informing him he was injured. Something he could repress. Something to be pushed away for the greater good.

A breath and Ben separated the feeling of pain from himself, pulling it away until there was nothing but the understanding he lacked pain. In that state, he wouldn't feel any pain at all, not even new injuries, like his very nerves had been quieted to nothing. It was a dangerous technique and one he had been utilizing far too much since he came back.  _ But it's necessary if I am to keep going _ .

He didn't feel anything now, and only his legs' slower response time revealed anything was wrong with him. He had the credits to get treated properly this time. A bit of bacta and he would barely have a scar. The pain. The injury. It didn't matter. There was too much to do. Too many people to save.

“I’m coming with you.” said the Pantoran, hitching her borrowed blaster higher. The slaves around her shot looks to one another before a few more tenuously nodded their heads. “We’ll come too.”

_ Why haven't they said anything? Surely they know how I have harmed them.  _

_ Perhaps they do and they are willing to trust that I will not fail them again. _

“Very well. Give me a shirt if you would be so kind. Mine appears to be ruined.” As he slipped it on he was told that the remaining slaves would either be in one of the three other production rooms or in the slaves main holding cell at the center of the complex. He was also told that there were fewer guards now since many left the complex during night shift. 

He slipped into tactical mode, into the high general these people needed.  _ How many injured? How many able bodied? How many willing to fight? Number of enemies? Strike points? Defensible positions? Time to reinforcements?  _

_ Cody would know exactly what to do. A bunch of injured, malnourished, angry, traumatized former slaves. If I had any other choice, I would keep them as far from fighting as possible, they have already been through so much. But I don't have a choice. I don't have the GAR and I highly doubt they'll allow me to go alone.  _

“We will divide into two groups. A majority of those with weapons will come with me to free the remaining slaves, but we will have to split up to free the other rooms. The other group will remain here. Their job will be to get to the loading dock, retrieve repulsor lifts, and begin loading the injured onto them for escape. While my team retrieves the others, they will also have to hold this position so we have a place to fall back to once the others are freed. After that, we will make an escape together.”

“Do any of you have combat experience?” Several calls of agreement are raised throughout the room, each one clearly having been a mercenary or criminal before being enslaved. “Okay, we will have to divide you among the groups so that we have the best coverage possible.” The groups are selected, weapons are handed out, goodbyes and good wishes are made, and soon Ben is leading another army. 

The trek to the center complex goes smoother than expected, only a few guards even attempting to stop them. It was worrying.  _ Clearly they know a section of slaves are free, so why are they not descending on us at force? _

Ben finds that the slave holding cells were more like military barracks, two large rooms on either side of a hall with exit points on either end, with bunks extending to the roof, hundreds packed into each room, like a warped warehouse. There were no guards, only the people he had seen when he first arrived, laying perfectly still on their beds. 

“Here.” Yand says, handing him a collar controller. “The collars are magnetic, they won't be able to stand until we disconnect the locks.”

Yand was with him as they placed the controllers to their necks and unfastened the collars. The freed ones tried to help or rushed to their friends' sides, but they only had so many controllers. It would take some time. Time they did not have.

Ben could feel the guards approaching. A group of them, coming down the hallway quickly, anger and annoyance radiating off them. He ran across the room and peered out into the hall, grimacing as he quickly drew their fire. He ducked back inside, ordering the doors closed before shooting the control panels. 

“Their coming! Blasters, defend the doors!”

The triggers were handed off to other slaves who worked with brutal efficiency in releasing their cellmates. The ones with blasters took up loose semicircles around the doors, the first and last line of defense. Outside the guards tried to pry the doors apart but Ben held them closed with the Force, giving the others as much time as possible to free the remaining slaves. It was clear what the guards were doing. The barracks had the most slaves in it in the facility. They had to keep this room secure and there were only two possible escape routes. Ben had just led his team into a kill box.

Ben knew the moment the triggers were activated, like a charge in the air. The screaming started again, only now the poor souls had no way to defend themselves, forced to lie on their beds and be electrocuted.

Ben had to choose. _ Hold the doors or free the remaining slaves? _ It was an easy choice. 

Ben released the doors and ran into the barracks, ripping the collars off of the people as he made his way through. His secrecy was nothing in the face of their pain. Dozens at a time they were freed, dropping down from their beds to join the battle. Most of the original defenders had fallen, with new slaves taking up their blasters.  _ Just hold on a little longer. _

He ran to the other room, pushing through the crowd of people taking shelter behind the walls. He stared in horror at the racks of screaming, contorting people still bound to their beds. Ben ran through, tearing collars off, dragging those too weak to move for the others to carry. 

“Everyone's free! We have to go now!” he shouted, his voice thick with a force suggestion. 

Like a trance they rose from their positions simultaneously, sprinting towards the door.

The guards fired blindly, striking slave after slave but there were more slaves than the guards could handle and like some great beast, the slaves slammed into the guards, all hands and teeth and feet. Ben felt the guards pain and the slaves relish. He didn't have time to focus on either. In a great, heaving mass they climbed over each other, escaping through the small door. 

They pushed through, running back to the large room, joining with the other groups. The screech of bolts and the cries of the dying filled the hall but they did not stop, crashing through any resistance they came across. The original production room was empty, only the bodies of the fallen guards remaining. Through another door the sound of fighting could be heard. The entirety of the freed slaves pushed forwards, descended down the hall, exiting into the docking area. The cavernous room was filled with the slaves from the other production floors along with the ones who had stayed behind. They were in a blaster fight but it was clear that they were winning. 

Ben rushed to join the fray when shouting echoed from the other side of the docking bay. From the other side a group of slaves came running, screaming something across the distance.

“Run!”

“Run!”

“Its going to blow!”

_ Oh dear. _

Around him the dawning revelation of the danger they were in grew and soon the slaves were pouring out of the building like a flood. It was oddly silent, nothing but the sound of gasping breaths and the pounding of feet. No screams or calls. Just the single minded focus of getting across the barren land and to the stone spires. If they could get there, they would have some protection. 

There was no sound when it exploded, that would come moments later, after everyone was knocked away by the shockwave. 

The blast picked them up, carrying them through the air like feathers, cradled in heat and light.

The ground was coming fast. He could stop himself, but what of the others? They had no defense, no protection, flung at the mercy of physics.

Ben tried. Tried to soften the landing for as many people as possible. Tried to slow their descents. Tried to keep them from breaking on the unforgiving ground.

And then the ground was there. 

There was no time for himself. 

The world went red as he closed his eyes. 

And he knew nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo writing action is hard but for a second attempt at a more dramatic section I hope its not to bad. Next part we get back to the main plot. Thanks for reading up to this point. Hits feed my soul. ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ


	10. Time Flies When You're Unconscious

Elsewhere, several systems away, a certain Siniteen merchant sees a familiar face. Auburn hair, pale blue eyes, brown Jedi robes. Yes, it had to be him. His new friend. He calls out to the man, getting the attention of the child beside him first. His son perhaps. He laughs, saying how disappointing yet expected it is that he had kept his drab Jedi clothes and compliments him on how well he cleans up. The Jedi listens politely, his confusion masked behind a small opinionless smile. The Siniteen clearly had mistaken him for someone else. He tells him as much only for the laughter to grow. The Jedi is ready to dismiss the man until he says a name he should not know. “I may be getting old my dear Jedi, but you left quite an impression on me. It would certainly take more than a few weeks for me to forget about you _Ben_.”

Ben was rolling onto his side before he was even fully conscious. The Force, clouded and murky, swimming somewhere in the back of his head, told him he needed to move. But the best he could do was collapse onto his back, staring into an orange, smoky sky. Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong.

_What happened?_

Ben tried to think back, tried to think anything at all, but all he met was a sharp throb behind his eyes and a bout of nausea. There was sound too. Loud, whatever it was, or at least part of it was loud, the other part was nothing but a single tone ringing. 

His eyes opened to the ashen gravel. _When did I close my eyes? When did I move?_

He raised his hand. Or maybe he didn't. It was hard to tell.

Something was wrong with his side. He couldn't actually feel the pain of whatever it was, but it was there. An off feeling, like things were jumbled inside of him, something distinctly out of place. 

A hand. A voice, half heard. Words with meanings that slipped past him. 

_No. No. No._ The wrongness inside shifted, grinding against itself. The hands were moving him and something was wrong. He told them. Screamed at them. They moved him anyway. Maybe he never said a word. 

And then the sky was gone and in its place was a sun. All orange and yellow and warm. Around were things moving in front of the flames. No. Not things. _People_. People dancing and running and screaming. People bleeding and broken and burned, smiling into the flames, weeping with joy. 

The hands were back and he was moving up. Up and away and across. The wrongness moved again. His breathing was wet, copper on his tongue. 

“It's okay. It's okay. I got ya. I know it hurts. Just hang on. Come on. Please man. I need ya to walk with me.” Someone needed him, he needed to pay attention. They wanted him to walk. He would try. 

“Ye! Tha’s it! Not too far now.”

Yand was helping him up, his arm over his shoulder. Ben tried to walk, but his left leg wasn't right, dragging along the ground.

“‘orry...I'm being...terribly rude.” It didn't come out right. The words jumbled together. The nausea increased. He could hear a whistling in his lungs and the copper taste grew.

Beside him Yand was bleeding, little stones slipping out from under his skin with every step. There was blood in his hair, soaking into his shirt. It poured from his forehead, a rivet of it flowing into his eye. A gash extended from his check bone back towards the crown of his head, the length of a hand. It was red inside, gooey and soft. Ben looked away.

The world was coming into focus now, the heat, the sound, forcing his mind to remember. The compound, the slaves, the explosion. _Ah. Concussion. Lovely._ But it was so much more than that. He knew something greater was wrong. Could feel that his organs were twisted, his bones broken, his lung filling with blood. He could feel himself slipping away.

Around them was chaos. People mirrored corpses, all blood and broken limbs. Yet they laughed and cried with happiness. They were in pain and could die at any moment but they would die free. People danced and cheered. Screams and yells of joy and relief and anger at the time lost in that wicked place. Some continued to run to the stone forest and others stood in mute contemplation as they watched the facility burn. He wanted to feel their emotions, to reach out and share in their freedom, but he couldn't focus enough, the Force muddled. 

“Everyone...everyone safe?” Yand doesn't answer, face grim and strained as he drags Ben away from the flaming building. 

He was so tired. He wanted to sleep. He knew he shouldn't. There was something about sleeping that was bad. But he couldn't think of it. Everything was just so heavy. 

“Hey. Don't be sleeping on me now. Long way to anywhere. Got ta keep walking.”

But everything is so fuzzy, the lights, the sounds. All of it fading. His eyes slip closed. His lame leg snags. Falling. Falling. Rocks.

He hears Yand gasp, a shocked painful sound that devolves into hisses and curses.

“Sorry. Im ‘orry.” He tries to find Yand but he can barely move. He lays there watching as the freed people start to regain themselves and realize they have to leave before the authorities come.

“Yand. Yand!” A grunt from beside him. “Ship...My ship.” The arms are back and he's rising, Yand is bleeding more. “‘Ight, where is it?” He makes a vague gesture to where he thinks it is, everything seems turned around.

_Can't sleep. Can't sleep. I have to walk. Walk. Walk_. One foot after the next. The wrongness shifts and shifts again. He's getting cold. And icy numbness spreading from his waist, through his chest, filling his lungs, his heart. His steps falter again. Another arm joins them and he doesn't have to walk anymore. 

Gravel gives way to grass. There, hidden in the shadow of a spire, is refuge. 

Ben had never been happier to see his ship.

Cheers go up around them and he realizes that they had been followed. 

He's pulled on board, cramped in with dozens of others as they all try to find a way to escape. 

The ship doesn't move and soon he's being dragged to the cockpit.

“Start ‘er up Boss. Won't move without ya.” Yand sounds so far away. “Come on Boss, don't give up now. Just put in tha numbers an well take care of everythin’ else.”

Ben is hardly aware as he puts in the sequence, cursing the rumbling as it vibrates through him, shifting the wrongness again. _It started. I did it._ But the coldness was so deep now and he was so tired, _surely just a moment won't be too bad_... 

  
  


He opens his eyes to the ceiling of the cargo hold, surrounded by figures. They move above him, hands bloody, his medikit open in their lap. They blur and shift, faces faded into the lights of the hold.

“Safe?” The words are wet, gurgled up and barely louder than a whisper.

“Yes, we're safe.”

“Everyone?”

They are silent for a moment.

“As many as we could.”

It hurts. It hurts so much. He wanted to save them. To free them. _All_ of them. To give them freedom before the war. He failed. How many had been lost? 

“Sorry.”

“None of that. I hear you're the one who got the first group free. You did all you could.”

_Did he?_

“Now your hurt pretty bad. You have to stop trying to talk. We're going into the city to get some help.”

Something about that was dangerous.

“Not safe.”

“We don't have a choice. This scrap heap won't get us very far.”

He wanted to defend his ship but everything was slipping away. He didn't fight it.

Everything blurs together after that, time skipping from moment to moment.

He's in a gray walled building. Shouting and bright lights. Ben wants to get sick but he can't move.

Then there are hands and laser scalpels and his clothes fall away. 

He doesn't see the tank until he's already inside of it, the warm, murky blue of bacta obscuring everything. 

He watches them put his things beside the tank and he's grateful. He has something important. Something he can't lose. He wished he could think of what it was. A coolness runs up his arm, a sedative surging through his system. The last thing he's sees are the worried, soot streaked faces of the slaves.

  
  
  


Everything was quiet and warm. Weightless and incorporeal. He was drifting, slow and soothing, like the rocking of a ship. He was still so tired and here, like this, he felt he could rest, sleep, let go. Just for a while.

“Good afternoon.”

_Please not yet. Just a little longer._

“Your bacta treatment has been completed.”

 _No, blast you_. But now he could taste it. Taste the slimy, stale flavor of the ambori fluid. Could feel its slick texture in his hair, his ears, his skin.

“It has been approximately five days since your admittance.”

The warmth which only a moment ago had been so comforting was becoming a terrible, stifling weight, the all encompassing moistness like being in the belly of some enormous animal. Like being swallowed whole. He wanted _out._

“I will begin draining the bacta now.”

Ben opened his eyes directly into the faceplate of an unfamiliar brand of medical droid. The eerie blue shade drained away and he soon found himself standing naked before the droid. 

“You can stand. Good. You will find that your most critical injuries are fully healed. However, it is likely you will feel a mild discomfort in the coming days.” The droid gestured to a nearby shelf. “You will find a medical gown, towel, and your personal effects in those bins. I will alert your next of kin of your condition. Please wait here.”

Ben steps halted and turned back to the droid. “Next of kin? I don't have-” But the droid had already drifted out into the hall. 

He looked down at himself to see what residual damage was left and found none, even his blaster wound was fully healed, only a concave dip in his skin indicating how much he was injured. He had a few new scars, already faded and pale, blending easily with his myriad of others, so not much had changed externally. Beside the tank was a flimsy sheet with his medical history which Ben put down quickly after reading words like pulmonary hemorrhage, blunt trauma, and rupture of internal organs. He understood well how close to joining the Force he had been, reading his every injury would do him no good.

As Ben dried himself he considered putting on the flimsy, backless medical gown but it felt like it would leave him exposed. Not for modesty, Jedi were inured to nudity and felt no shame in their forms, afterall, they were luminous beings, but that without solid armor, he was vulnerable. He had apparently just spent the last few days sedated because his injuries were so grave, he didn't want to wander around possibly hostile territory in nothing more than a sheet. Ben wanted to feel protected.

He had hardly pulled on his ragged pants when Yand burst through the door, followed by two strangers. 

“By the Old Ones! Ya actually awake!” Yand and one of the others rushed forward, wrapping Ben into a tight hug. Modesty was one thing, but physical contact was another. Jedi were rarely ever touched. He stood stock still as they detangled themselves from him.

“I'm glad you're alright. You do look _way_ better now.” said the zabrak woman. She was unfamiliar but the striations along her neck revealed her to be one of the former slaves. The other man he did know, he was the one who had spit on the floor back at the compound. _How uncivilized_. He just gave a nod.

“I...Well, thank you. Im happy to see you are all safe.” Ben went to grab his ruined shirt only for the woman to stop him. “You can't wear that, are you kidding? Look at it! More blood and dirt than fabric. Hold on, I'll go get you something clean to wear. Do you need anything else? Water? Food? Food! You are probably starving. I'll go see what they have. It will probably be some koja nuts. Just hang on, I'll be back before you know it.” She ran from the room before he could tell her that it was unnecessary. She reminded him so much of Ahsoka, the same fretting helpfulness. Ahsoka was like that after Zygeria, always asking if his robes were loose enough not to disturb the bacta patches on his back, asking if he needed help with reports or a ration bar. Such sweet girls. They had both been enslaved and yet they thought of others. 

Ben went and dropped into a nearby chair, running the towel through his hair. “I must admit I'm a bit fuzzy on the details. Would you mind telling me what happened after the explosion. I remember being hurt and I believe we were on my ship for awhile but after that…”

“Ya alright.” Yand dragged another chair in front of Ben. “So it went like this yeah, some dumbass from tha other blocks rigged the place ta blow, right? Only dey set it way too short. Hardly had time to get to the hanger before it was ready to pop. They get in, they start yelling, everyone hauls ass outta there. _Boom_ . Whole place goes up.” His hands move in pace with the story, illustrating every move like a holofilm but Ben was hardly focusing on that. _All those people. All those guards left there unconscious_ . He had run right past them during their escape, had thought they would be fine, that their own people would take care of them. _All of them dead. Thats isnt what I wanted_. “Picks the lot of us up. We all hit the ground, but ya got it particularly bad. Honestly thought ya was dead till ya started waving ya arm.”

“Now I was hurt, like I had my head cut open an everything,” he pointed to the long hairless streak on his skull, “but you? Looked like ya insides were smashed and scrambled, all twisted up. The rocks messed you up bad. But I got ya up and walking. The others were runnin around, having a good ol’ time. You were talking, be’n all polite while you were dying. Surreal stuff man. Anyway, you say ya got a ship, so we get over there an a bunch of the others followed.”

“We get on and you got us in the air and then I was sure ya were dead. Pale, bleed’n all over the place. We got you to the back with the others. They did what they could but there were too many hurt. We got ta the city and-”

“We brought down that bastard slaver scum.” The other man says, leaning against the wall. 

“Yeah well, I was gett’n to that. Anyway, we get here first. But we got lots of injured and no one was about ta let _you_ die, so we more er less took over this medicenter.”

Ben stared at the man in shock as he continued to talk about forcing their way into the hospital. “But I don't understand.” Ben said. “You could have left the planet, been free of this place.”

“Maybe, but you wouldn't have made it ta the next system.”

“That may be, but by coming here you have put yourselves in danger.”

The other man stepped forward, “Look, we’re grateful for what you did, but don't you dare start talking like we can't defend ourselves or go where we damn well please. We were right there fighting with you. You should just be happy this one here dragged your ass off that field.”

“Cut em some slack Jaurobe. The man just woke up.” 

“Anyway, we get here and dump ya into a bacta tank. We get da others treated an eventually more start show’n up to. By then, whole towns in an uproar, try’n ta get in, try’n to figure out who we are.”

“Well,” he draws out the word, a cold smile pulling at his lips, “soon we got somethin’ like hundred, two hundred pissed off ex-slaves. And little ol Halcorr is just right there for da pick’n.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Yand is supposed to have an accent, like a pirate or kind of country. Still not sure if its coming across that way, never done accents before ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	11. Choices

Ben doesn't need to hear the rest. 

He had seen it hundreds of times on dozens of worlds. The oppressed get free and turn against their oppressor. It was natural, and in some ways, just. But it still felt like a failure. He had wanted Halcorr to answer for his crimes in a court of law, to be used as an example for the judicial system of the Republic, to show the galaxy that the senate and courts could and would answer evil, not have the man be torn apart by an angry mob. 

“So we go ta his nice, pretty pyramid and he’s not even kind enough ta greet us. So we just let ourselves in.”

The zabrak woman returned, quietly standing in the doorway. Ben motions her over and she hands him a new set of clothes. “Thank you my dear.” Her cheeks darken ever so slightly and she turns away, her aura turning giddy. He gives her a warm, understanding smile which only darkens her blush. 

“They didn't like that all that much, but im think’n they couldn't match our anger on their best day. Well, one thing leads ta another and soon we got ourselves a nice little druglord.”

Ben is quiet for a moment, trying to parcel out all that Yand didn't say. He said nothing of the guards or the people who worked in the building. He said nothing on the state of the ex-slaves, those who made it to the city and those that did not, if only a few hundred helped in the attack. He said nothing about the state of the planet or city now that one of its ruling powers had been overthrown.  _ How many people were lost trying to take that compound? _

“So what did you do with Halcorr?” he asks, slipping on the soft shirt. He felt he already knew, escaped slaves would not be acting so relaxed if they were still under threat of recapture.

“Oh he wa’ gone _ long _ before I got up there. Not really sure what all they did, but I know it can’ta been pretty.” 

“Torture.” It wasn't a question. 

“Probably.” Yand says with a shrug, clearly unconcerned with how the man died. Ben stares at the ground, brows furrowed. 

“Don't tell me you're a bleeding heart after everything you just did.” Jaurobe mocks. 

Ben turns to him in a flash. “I value  _ all _ life, even those who dont value others.” he says, voice strained. “As a Jed-” Ben's mouth snaps closed with an audible click.  _ Blast _ . That got their attention, a sheen of intense curiosity in their eyes.  _ I can't keep letting my disquiet affect me. _

The three stare at him for a long moment, the air thick with questions. Ben thought back to his panic attack on the catwalk, remembered his fear and the suspicion that all around him were hidden enemies. He could not tell these people his identity. He could not be revealed so soon. “All I am saying is that you do not get to choose who you save. He should have stood trial, answered for his crimes.”

“But he did answer.” it was the woman, her hands clenched at her side, eyes wild. “He answered to us. To the people he hurt. He deserved everything we did to him and more.”

Ben looked at the woman, who reminded him so much of Ahsoka, who stood radiating anger and righteousness and vengeance. Her neck still bearing the scars of slavery, her body still to thin from malnourishment, her heart still wounded by captivity. And he wants to tell her that it is always wrong to torture. That to torture someone you must treat them as something other than a person, something that does not have the innate value that all sentients have. That she had to think of him as he had thought of her.

He _ wants _ to tell her that hurting others always damages the humanity of those that carry it out, how it damages the spirit. How anger and violence and revenge are incurable diseases, and once indulged in, never truly go away. That it may haunt her for the rest of her life. That someday she may look back on herself and not be able to see a ‘good’ person. 

But he doesn't say any of it. 

He was not this woman's teacher and she was not his student. She had made her choice as a free being and she would live with the consequences regardless of what he said. He would not lecture her on morality or the finer points of justice. He would advise and set forth facts as he saw them.

“You have suffered an unimaginable injustice but I can not condone what you have done. You have allowed your anger to overcome you rather than see what positive changes you could have brought about. We will never know what other information he might have had, we will never be able to put him on trial as an example of what happens to cruel men, and he will never have the opportunity to reflect on his life and change. Revenge is never the answer, no matter how much you want it to be.”

The woman's eyes go wide and her lips pull back into a snarl. She growls out a curse before storming out of the room. Jaurobe makes a snort filled with derision before turning and following the woman out. Ben slumps. He had not meant to upset her.

“Well, tha’ could’ve gone better.”

Ben gives Yand a withering look before finishing getting dressed. He goes over to the bins and slowly gathers the rest of his things, a dull pain reverberating through his newly mended muscles. He is relieved to find that both his saber and holorecorder were untouched. Even his blasters had been returned. Dressed and armed he felt much better, more in control.

“Ya know, its easy ta talk all high-minded when you've never been a slave.” Ben's hands still. “Eudox wasn't always a slave either. Had ‘er family killed right in front of her when they tried to fight back ‘gainst their captors.” Yands eyes blazed with barely controlled emotion. “It's easy to say revenge is bad when ya never had to watch your loved ones die, never been forced ta debase yourself just ta survive.”

Ben can hardly breathe and he does not know what expression he is wearing when he turns to Yand but it must be terrible because the man goes quiet, leaning as far back into his chair as possible.

He thinks he could almost feel the sting of electro-whips and the weight of an explosive filled collar. He thinks he can see the light leaving Qui-gons eyes, Satines, hundreds of clones whose names he never learned. And he is certain he can feel the death of the Jedi, the sickening, piercing emptiness left in the Force and in his heart as they fell one by one. He remembers Anakin, his boy, his brother, waking in the night in terror, memories of distant slave masters haunting his dreams. And the feeling of him slipping into darkness, lost in a nameless grief. Yes, there were times Ben wanted revenge, times when making killers pay was like an overwhelming  _ need _ , but he had never given into those dark temptations. 

He closes his eyes and takes a steadying breath. This man didn't know. It was not his fault he opened old wounds.

He opens his eyes, his pain and loss written on his face clear as day. “Oh but I do my friend, and I have lost everything more times than I can count.”

Ben closes himself off from Yands tumultuous emotions, his realization and pity too much for him to bare at the moment. He turns away, trying to get control of his own feelings, trying to wrestle his sorrow back down when he notices a cluttered table shoved against the wall.

The table is a mess of colors and objects and Ben approaches curiously. Scattered across the surface are several little handmade baubles, coins, rocks, and various carved figures. Swaths of fabric, wooden stripes with symbols carved into them, the odd piece of jewelry. Had it been anywhere else it could have been easily mistaken for a vendor's table in a market.

Ben picked up a long braided cord with a smooth stone woven in at the base; colors of green, white, and red intertwined in a complicated plait. It was Askajian, the style distinct to the species. Ben wished he knew more about the culture to understand the meaning behind the colors and braid. “It's beautiful.”

Yand recovers himself slowly, walking over to Ben to look down at the table. “Ye, it is. While ya was out lots of the freed ones came by an left stuff for ya. Good luck charms an all that. Most didn't want ta hang around.”

A talisman of some kind, meticulous swirls painted onto cloth, its meaning hidden in characters Ben could not understand.

“They left?”

The next was familiar. A statuette of Kika'lekki, the mother goddess of the Twi’lek’s, renowned for her divine protection. 

“Oh yeah. Lots stole sum ships and took off after we got Halcorr and did what needed doing.”  _ I guess I know where he stands.  _ “Had family to find, lives ta take back. But alot more stayed. Didn't have anywhere else ta go and heres as good a place as any.”

While he did not have the gift of psychometry, Ben could almost feel the focus with which the gifts were made. Tired, weary people. Grateful and concerned. ‘He's still not awake.’ ‘We must leave.’ ‘Please let this help him.’ Culture and prayer mixing into handwork. Figures of guardian protectors. Stones carved with words of healing. Coins for promised futures. They had nothing and still they gave these to him. Slices of their homes, their people, left to watch over him. 

“I...I would like to keep these, if I can.” he can't keep the crack out of his voice. Jedi did not own things, not even gifts. Anything they received on missions would be placed in one of the viewing halls of the temple, displays meant to remind them of their mandate. But he wanted these. He wanted to keep them. He could not leave them here, disrespecting the care and emotion of those who appealed to their higher powers on his behalf. _ Just this once, I want to keep them for myself _ . 

“Well yea, there meant for ya after all. We’ll get ya a nice hover cart to put it all in later, ‘for now, ya have lots o people tha want ta meet ya.” 

Ben set down one of the coins he was holding, turning to raise an eyebrow at Yand. “What, ya thought ya could wake up n’ leave without meet’n everyone? Not likely.”

They left the room and Ben could tell Yand was treating him more delicately than before, his tone softer, his eyes more discerning. 

“So back ta what I was say’n earlier. We eventually got enough people that Halcorrs guards didnt stand a chance. Hell, most of ‘em ran the moment they saw us come’n. We get in and find that coward hidding in some room, use’n some of the workers for a shield. We lost some good people getting him out of there and by then tha whole group was howling mad. He didnt last long. Didnt even have a chance ta formally capture him before he was already dead.” He shoots a look to Ben, trying to gauge his reaction. 

“And I didnt know it at tha time but while we were dealing with Halcorr, a bunch of us ran off to the other compound ‘ couple towns over. Turns out lots of em had friends n family that were split up to different packing plants. Apparently it was a hell of a fight. Course ‘ didn't know about it till we got a whole new group of injured people but it is what it is.” They come to a set of doors, the muffled sound of many voices pouring out.

“Anyway, its been a bit chaotic for tha last few days, cant believe its been less than a week since I had that damn collar on.” He throws an arm across Ben's shoulder, “But now that ya up, things can start moving forward, yeah?” He smiles and pushes the doors open, revealing what once had been a cafeteria. “Everyone! Look who's finally awake!” A cheer went up through the hall and Ben was led into a throng of people. The room was obviously being used as the main sleeping area, people scattered out on hastily made beds along the edges of the walls. At the center were tables which Ben was pressed down into, people crowding around him

They thanked him and hugged him, warm arms and grateful words. It was an odd feeling. As a Jedi, even the most thankful of people generally kept their distance, formality and ‘otherness’ keeping them away. But here they knew him only as the man who had helped free them. Their embraces were true and uncomplicated, an equal embracing and equal. 

“You don't have to thank me. I hardly did anything. You freed yourselves.”

A chorus of denial rose up. “Ya can't really think that, can ya? If you didn't show up, didn't fight, didnt lead us, we never would’ve made it out of there. Hells, without ya ship lots of us would've died.” 

Ben wanted to argue his point but he could feel their resolve. They would never acknowledge his lack of importance in the outcome and so he felt it was best to let them believe as they wished. 

“I am pleased to know you all are safe”. A woman besides him lays her hand on his, patient and reassuring. “We’re just happy you're finally awake.”  _ She's sincere. _ There is so much Ben wants to say, so many apologies and questions that he can't seem to voice.  _ What happened with the other slaves? How many made it out? What became of the guards? Or the injured? Were they safe here? How many people lost someone because of him? _

He is saved from his spiralling thoughts by a young human, curled protectively around a Twi’lek. “So what do we do now?”

All eyes shift to Ben. At least this he could answer. “Well, my original intention was to free you and use the evidence I collected in the process to bring Halcorr to  _ trial _ .” Yand narrows his eyes and shakes his head minuetly.  _ Now is not the time _ . “...So I propose we continue in that direction. I have amassed quite a bit of evidence on Halcorr and his slave based spice operation. I plan on sending everything that I have to the senate and the Jedi. Once they have this evidence they won't be able to ignore what's happening here any longer.” Scoffs and disbelieving laughs fill the room.

“They won't help us. They let us rot here for years.” Cold fury rolled off the woman who spoke, the feeling pervading the group.

“That may be, but we can not simply leave these crimes unknown. I truly believe they have been in the dark on this.”

“She's right you know. Those pricks on the core worlds dont give a womp rats ass about us. Most of what we made went to them in the first place!” Murmurs of agreement went up from the group. They were getting angry. Each comment building upon another, increasing the resentment they were bleeding into the Force.  _ If they keep projecting their anger like this I'll be overwhelmed.  _

Ben stood in the middle of the circle, arms raised in a placating manner, “Please, dear people, just listen for a moment.” They quieted, eyes intently watching him. He was well aware that they only stopped out of respect for what he had done for them.

“I know that the senate and Jedi have failed you, and I understand your anger, but just because they were unable to help you does not mean it is not worth informing them. If there is even the slightest chance they will help others then we  _ have  _ to. No one should have to go through what you have.”

The anger still permeated the air but it was lessened. They were at least considering it.

“An appeal is a small thing for all the good it may do. And I do not intend for it to only be known to politicians. We will spread it to every world, every media outlet we can reach. I will not allow what you have gone through to be ignored.”

They say nothing and Ben worries they will deny the action. Ben looks to Yand who is conversing with the Pantorain woman from before. The two move forward when they notice his desperate look.

“What do we have ta lose? I say we do it.” 

“Yes, I agree. If for nothing else, it would at least make it harder for them to get away with what they have done.”

They still seemed unconvinced and Ben let out a weary sigh. 

_ Tsk _ ”Do what you want.” Ben looks up to the scowling face of Jaurobe. “It can't make us worse off than now can it. So we might as well try.”

Ben was surprised that the man would even speak to him after his reaction earlier. “Thank you Jaurobe.” he gave the man a grateful smile and watched with amusement as he looked away with a huff. 

The conversation drifted away from him to what they should put in the report, the idea gaining support the more they talked about it. 

Ben sat and listened to their ideas, from witness testimony to physical evidence, when a dizziness overtakes him. The room grows hazy and he can feel himself start to sway.

“Whoa, Boss, ya okay?” Yand is suddenly beside him, holding him steady. “Yes, Im fine, just light headed is all.” He receives unimpressed looks all round. “Yeah, sure. Ya know just cause your out of the bacta doesn't mean your hundred percent. Let's get ya some place to lie down.”

He's unceremoniously led away and to a single bed recovery room. With the help of a medibot and Yand, Ben flops onto the bed exhausted. He couldn't even use the force to dull the effects of the fatigue, his energy so low after utilizing it for such an extended amount of time. 

The droid is speaking to Yand, something about fatigue and drowsiness, but Ben is out before he can make out the words.

  
  
  


“Well _ I  _ say that there is no way Clothesline is not cheating.  _ No one _ has a hand that good. He has to be working with someone to hide cards. I just need to figure out who.” Anakin huffs, arms crossed over his chest as he vents. “I mean, a Flask  _ and _ a Saber 23 hand in a row! Impossible!”

They were walking across the icy tundra flats of Ilum, the snow filled air whipping around them. Far in the distance, the great wall of the temple's entrance glittered in the faded light. The air smelled stale and recycled, a mix of plastoid, metal, and standard issue soap. Their footsteps rang with metallic clicks. 

“Hmm, it seems to me that your sabacc skills are getting rusty.” Obi-wan says dryly. “Perhaps you need a refresher game with Master Jocasta.” He can't keep the smirk from his face as Anakin shutters. “If I ever agree to play that old cheat again it would be easier for you to just rob me.” He gives Anakin a wry look and a grin breaks out across the young man's face. The sight makes Obi-wan feel a strange melancholy as though it had been ages since he had last seen such a smile. 

A trio of clones pass by, clearly on their way to the mess hall, giving warm, casual greetings to the Jedi. 

Sunburst and Mav if he remembers correctly, and an unknown 501st trooper. He turns and watches the brothers laugh and jostle each other until they disappear into the swirling winds, vanishing like wraiths into the night. He tries to spot Sunbursts unmistakable orange and yellow hair but only sees the vast stretch of frozen wastes. 

He was almost certain Sunburst had died taking back Geonosis. 

_ Perhaps I had been mistaken _ . 

He turns back to Anakin, listening to him rant on the clones more mischievous ways with the feigned annoyance of a commander who has been outsmarted by his men and couldn't be more proud for it. They pass a view port, stars blurred into lines as they speed through hyperspace and Obi-wan pauses to watch. The younger stops to join him, an easy contemplative silence surrounding them. He can feel Anakin in the Force, a sun burning with light, its usual restless flow soothed.  _ He has come so far _ . He sends the feeling through their still intact bond, his gentle pride as much as he's ready to share. Anakin startles for an instant before his pleasure at the unspoken complement echoes up the bond. Obi-wan smiles, hidden by his beard, relishing in the ease of his former padawan. He thinks on things as he stares out the viewport, on missions, on people, on friends, but the thoughts slip by like the planets they leave behind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say, I love dream sequences


	12. Goodbye and Goodluck

Soft knocking awakens Ben, the dream vanishing to the back of his mind, leaving the remnants of a peaceful feeling behind.

He rises slowly, his freshly healed muscles protesting the action. _The droid was not wrong about the discomfort. If only I had the strength to mitigate it._

“Come in!” He calls, running his hands through his hair trying to sculpt it into some sort of order, feeling the dried remnants of bacta crunch under his fingers. _By the Force, I need to take a shower._

The door opens to reveal the Pantoran woman he had fought with, her blue skin a more healthy shade. A new scar runs down the length of her face, stopping at her jaw only to reappear down her collar bone. Ben wonders how many more the woman now bore, how many slaves now cared similar wounds.

“If I'm waking you, I can return at a later time.”

“It's quite alright. I have been sleeping for days, I could do with being up for a while.” There was nowhere to sit so he gestures to the end of his bed but she tactfully refuses.

“I don't plan on staying long, I just wanted to know what you plan to do.”

“Plan?”

She lets out a sigh, running her hands over her eyes. “Yes, a plan. The idea of appealing to the senate is a good one, and I intend to help you with it, but we need more. While you were healing, alot has changed on Formos, and I am unsure how much longer this ‘peace’ can last.” She begins pacing around the room, her hands waving in exasperation. “With Halcorr gone, the entire area, the entire _planet_ , is out of control. This place has always been scummy, but now the bounty hunters and criminals see a major power vacuum. The freed slaves are just barely keeping order but we are outnumbered.” she stops in front of Ben with another sigh. “It's just… you seem like the only one who might have had a plan.”

“Well if we are to begin charting the course of Formos, perhaps formal introductions are in order. I am Ben...no last name. Most recently from Tatooine” He gives her a slight bow, or as much as he could while being in bed. Her lined face wrinkles as she scrunches it, clearly upset. “You don't have a people?” 

_I wish people would stop bringing up painful things_. “No, not anymore.” 

“My condolences then.” She performs a Pantoran hand gesture, a sign of respect and mourning. Ben is surprised how much her sympathy affects him. She's was the first person to offer any condolence for those he had lost, even if she was the only one he had actually told. 

“Thank you. That means more than you can know.” She gives him a sad smile, a world of unspoken words behind it.

“I am Chora Rykoi, Pantoran of Pantora, captured on a trading vessel nine years ago.” She introduces. _Nine years. Nine years of enslavement. And how many more until we freed this world in my own time? Had she even lived that long then?_

“It is a pleasure to meet you... I want to thank you for what you did back at the plant. Without yours and Yand’s help taking down the guards, I don't think things would have ended nearly as well.”

“I would do anything to get free. I'm only glad you had a way to get the collars off.” she gives him a sidelong glance. She has her suspicions, but to her the _how_ doesn't really matter. An unspoken mutual agreement passes between them. She won't ask and he doesn't have to tell.

Ben shifts on the bed, choosing to ignore the blatant accusation, straightening to give the discussion the respect it requires. “As you heard, I plan on petitioning the senate for aid and recognition. I have more than enough evidence to create a report for the senate, and once it is released to the public, the societal pressure will force them to act quickly.” 

“But as far as a plan on setting up a government, I am far out of my depth. I still believe requesting diplomatic aid from the Jedi would be the best course of action.” It would not be the first violent coup the Jedi had ever dealt with and the faster Formos received their aid, the faster the planet would have order again.

Her face morphs into one of disdain. “You heard what they said earlier, how the Jedi never helped us before, and I'm still inclined to agree with them. Their lap dogs for the senate, they never help without their approval first. Why should we invite those who never cared before to help mold our future? It is our world now. It should be set up however _we_ want, not in the image of the Jedi or the senate. ”

 _Is this the image we have cultivated even before the war? How long had they dismissed us like this_?

“I understand your hesitance but there are ways to petition the Temple directly. And what is more, you won't have to follow their every word, they will be here to advise, not take over. They are sworn to help those who ask, they will not reject our plea.” She is still unconvinced but agrees anyway with only a small amount of grumbling. 

“The only issue I see is that the request must come from a controlling body. We will need a leader for the request to be acknowledged.”

She places a hand to her chin and Ben notes he had done the same. “That's going to be a problem. The freed ones will never accept a leader from Halcorrs old staff or any of the remaining nobles, who are also a problem by the way, and there is no way we can allow one of the criminals to take control of the planet.” she said, more to herself than Ben. Ben watched her with an amused look. _I suppose it would be best just to say it_. 

“If I had to choose a leader, I would probably choose you.” she looks at him shocked, mouth agape. “You said it yourself, there is an obvious power vacuum. All we need to do is fill it with someone who the people will willingly follow. You have shown not only a willingness to fight but you have also proven yourself to be brave. What's more, you are already thinking about the future of the planet and its people. You recognize the power on the line and have an idea of what you don't want for the planet.”

“And probably most important now is that you have lived through slavery, you understand what many of the remaining people have gone through and have a solid idea of the type of ruler you dont want to be. To me, that is more than enough to have you lead. And if you don't like it, you can just be the provisional leader until someone else comes.”

She stares at the wall behind him, eyes unfocused, lost in thought. Silence reigns as she works through his proposition and he sees the moment she comes to a decision. “I...I would do it... _if,_ and only _if,_ no one better steps forward.”

“Then you are already proving yourself to be a wise leader. Go find Yand, I am sure he will be able to get everything worked out.” Ben would help her himself but he could feel himself grow tired again. She left a short time later and as Ben drifted off he hoped that when he awoke everything would be sorted. 

  
  
  


A day passed in a haze, Ben waking to the occasional visitor or a droid bringing him a meal. It was nice, if he was being honest, but he still felt uncomfortable laying around when there was work to be done. Once he felt he could stay awake for a while he asked for a datapad to begin writing the senatorial report. 

The report itself came easy, he had written many just like it on behalf of other planets and had assisted Bail more than once in reviewing them. He began with what he knew from his original timeline, omitting only things that had not happened yet. It was a general overview of Halcorr and his operation; coordinates for other bases of operation, a list of known or possible corroborators, minutiae about the products and scope of shipments.

It was what the senate had given the Jedi in his own time. The details of a travesty, parceled down to mere statistics and descriptions. The type of toothless data politicians loved so much. It hid the horrors behind language and numbers and Ben was quick to move onto the more important information, the suffering of the people under Halcorrs rule. 

He began by detailing every atrocity committed on Formos, from the kidnapping to the abuse and everything he had seen in his brief time in the facility. He mixed in the holovids he had taken, giving special focus to the shock collars. 

Chora arrived soon with his lunch and she helped him fill out more of the details while they ate. She knew far more about the operation than Ben did and she described the many tortures they endured as punishments. Starvation, beatings, rapes. It was horrible to even hear. _These monsters will not get away with this. The senate and jedi will know every terrible detail_. 

As they went, she sent out messages to others to get their thoughts and soon people started crowding into his room to recount their own experiences. With Chora’s help, they managed to persuade some to give recorded interviews. Even Eudox was there, though she would not look at him. Yand was standing in the doorway, an easy smile on his face.

Quickly the former slaves took control of the datapad, passing it around to one another. Once it was clear Ben wasn't needed right then, Yand pulled him out of the room and they left the hospital.

“Eh, it seemed like ya needed a break and what better thing ta do than ta look around our nice little city.” Nice was a very generous term, the town still as dank and oppressive as before. “Ya haven't been outta there for’a while. So what ya want ta see?”

There was truly nothing of note on Formos so they wandered around aimlessly for a time, passing vagrants and cantinas. Yand kept his hand on his blaster, watching each passerby for the slightest hint of aggression. He moved like a person used to staying out of sight, quick light steps and carefully hunched shoulders. Ben walked beside him looking like the very image of placidity, as though he were strolling through the royal gardens of Alderaan. 

“It's creepy how calm ya are.” Yand muttered under his breath and Ben gave him his most befuddled look, “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Ye, sure you don't.”

They looked at each other and then broke into muffled laughter. It had been a long week for them both.

“Well ‘gardless of how creepy ya are, we just ‘bout walked past every good bar in tha city and ya still havent said somethin ya want ta do.”

“I would not mind seeing my ship.”

“Ah, ‘bout that.” He runs his hand across the back of his neck. “See, it was used as a temporary shelter when tha medicenter got too crowded. It's closer than Halcorr’s place and, uh, it may be a bit messier than ya remember.”

_Wonderful._

It turned out _Piece of Sith_ was landed only a few blocks away from the medicenter. When they arrived they found several people within; sleeping, cooking, scrolling through datapads. Ben was worried for a moment, thinking they had the pads that held his notes of the future, but he went to his room and found the door still locked. _Thank the stars._

A bit further in and Ben saw what Yand meant. 

The entire back half of the ship was a chaotic mess. Blood stains still covered the floor from where no one bothered to clean them up, the things he had bought on Tatooine were scattered around the cargo bay, clearly having been sift through, graffiti covered the walls, some sweet messages, others profanity, empty containers of food sat throughout the ship, filling the air with the smell of rot, a fine layer of dust and soot coated the floor and walls. 

Ben bent his head and pinched between his brows. “Ye, sorry ‘bout that. They just kinda did whatever.” Ben shoots him a look and his mouth snaps closed though he is clearly amused by Ben's irritation. 

Ben gives a last defeated look to the hold before making his way to the cockpit, listening as Yand gently shoos away the remaining people. The controls seemed undamaged and he was able to get the ship to start and that was all that truly mattered. He released the lock to his room and went to make sure everything was undisturbed and was pleased to find everything as he left it. He had no water in his tanks but he still had some fuel so at least he would be able to fly.

“It's not as bad as I feared. Needs some cleaning and water but it still functions. Thank you for taking care of my ship.”

“Ya know we can just steal ya a different ship. And I can guarantee ya it would be better than this scrap heap...Safer too.”

Ben doesn't look back from where he is taking inventory of the kitchen shelves, finding virtually all his food gone. “One, stealing a ship is still wrong and you should not do it, and two, I am trying to keep a low profile and I can't do that in a stolen ship.”

Behind him Yand doubles over laughing, “Ya cant be serious right now! Ya? Low profile? Ya couldn't be more noticeable if ya tried!”

“That is entirely-”

“Like almost everybody in town knows ya name,” he takes a wheezing breath, “ya broken in and started a fight at one’a tha biggest spice plants this side of the system,” he tapers off into giggles, “and ya think ya being subtle?” His laughter starts up again and Ben watches him unamused. “I'm glad someone is happy about all this.”

“No, no. I'm just really surprised at how sneaky ya are. Absolutely astounded really.”

“Oh shut up and help me clean up this mess.”

Yand is still smiling as they begin to sort through the clutter scattered around them. Most of Ben's kitchen wear is still there, even his teapot, even if he no longer had any tea left. They find several ruined slave uniforms which are promptly thrown out. It's slow going. If Ben was alone he would have used the Force to simply push everything off the ship but as it was they had to settle for the normal way.

They were throwing trash out of the opened back of the cargo hold when Yand started talking. “Ya know Boss, for how disgust’n this town is, its start’n ta feel like home.” 

“Well, then i'm glad you have found somewhere you feel happy… And it's _Ben_.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I know.” he threw an armful of food waste out, watching it splatter over the ground below. “An’ I also know tha it's not just Ben.”

Ben flicked his gaze to the man, trying to measure out his meaning in that. His knowing his true identity would be a problem. And if he did know that he was a Jedi, time traveling or not, there was no end to the damage he could do to his mission. _But what can I do if he knows? I slipped earlier so he might know i'm a Jedi but it's impossible to know i’m from the future. So what is his angle? Report me to the Order?_

“Oh?”

“Yeah, found out ya part of the guild. You'ra bounty hunter.” 

Ben visibly relaxes, a small laugh escaping him. “Yes. It's true. I am a bounty hunter. At least, some of the time.”

“Is that why ya were so upset about Halcorr? Ya wanted his bounty?” Yand was looking for something in his face, some answer .

“No. I came here for reasons of my own.” _Reasons, which in hindsight, were convoluted and unnecessary, but that's for only me to know_. “Besides, Halcorr didn't have a bounty.”

“Hn. Then why did ya free us?” _Ah, there it is._

Ben looked at the man across from him. Young and brave, physical wounds healed but with emotional scars that may never go away. He had fought beside him, carried him to safety, stayed until he was awake. He was a good man.

“I freed you because it was the right thing to do.” 

“Ya know if anyone else said that id say they were fulla bantha shit.” his throws himself over Bens shoulder. “But somehow I think ya actually believe that.”

“I do. Life is precious and I have learned that everyone should be free to do with their life as they will.” The japor snippet around his neck hangs heavy. There was much he had to make up for.

Yand grows quiet and returns to work, using abandoned sheets to push the dirt out. Ben looks out across the city, watching the sun through a haze of smog, before turning back and helping him, both lost in thought.

  
  
  


That night after they had returned to the medicenter, Ben asked to speak privately to Yand and Chora. He couldn't stay any longer and he needed to know he did all he could before he left.

They sat in what once might have been an administrator's office and Ben began to explain how he had broken into Halcorr’s office and how he found the spice plant. He left out a few details, mostly to keep his secret. The pair already knew more about him than he would have liked. 

“All this is to say...I must leave soon and I wanted t-”

“What are ya talking about? Ya can't just go! You're like our Boss! Ya got all the ideas!” Ben raises his hand, stopping his tirade in its tracks.

“Please, listen. I can not stay here for any longer, I have some...business I need to attend to far from here. A friend of mine is in trouble and I need to get to them as soon as I can. I will be leaving early tomorrow.”

Chora is silent, an air of tenseness around her.

“Once I finish the request for Jedi aid, you will have everything you need to get Formos on the right track. The senatorial report is all but done and once it's published you will surely receive aid from other planets as well.”

“But before I leave there is one more thing I must take care of.” Ben takes a deep breath. “So long as Halcorr’s terminal is still intact, I can give you access to his bank accounts.” The room is silent for an instant before Yand screeches “Wait. Wait. Ya have what!” Chora’s mouth goes slack and the arms she had crossed while he spoke fell to her sides.

A playful smirk crosses his mouth, “Oh yes. I have the passwords to quiet a few of his accounts. Think of it as a parting gift.”

The pair dont move and so he continues “Understand, I expect you to use the credits wisely and fairly. A portion should be given to those who have remained here. But for the most part I leave its distribution up to you.” He looks to Chora whose eyes are wide with shock. “You are after all the provisional leader.”

“Tha’s...tha’s… that's insane! You're just gonna give us his creds?”

“Indeed. Well, it's more adequate to say i'm transferring funds from one regime to another. Think of it as the beginning deposit of a new government.”

“But I have no knowledge of monetary policy! How would I even begin to utilize it?” Chora was thinking again, trying to come up with a solution before the problem even arrived. _I knew she was a good choice._

“That my dear is what the Jedi will assist you with.”

“Yand’s right. You can't just leave. We will need you now more than ever. You're the only one who seems to understand how all this works.”

Ben could feel her uncertainty, her desperation, but he could not be moved. He knew she could handle this. She was smart and strong and she would be able to adapt to her new role. 

“I would stay if I could but there is someone who desperately needs me. I cannot stay here. I believe in both of you and your ability to lead. I know you can do it without me.” Chora turns away, frustration and worry pouring off her. “And I will not be gone forever. I’ll come back eventually. See what you make of your new world.”

Chora turns back, unshed tears in her eyes, and gives him a nod. He would need to give them his comm number, if only to check in on them.

“Well I don't see’a problem with it. Ya already said ya was coming back so it’ll be fine. But I say we go get tha creds before the terminal becomes somebodies scrap.”

They leave and make their way to the remnants of the compound. The courtyard is filled with ex slaves who all greet them as they pass. They find the terminal intact, apparently being used to communicate with people families, and Ben makes the transfer. For the millions of credits he had just given away, it was an oddly mundane moment. Quiet and boring as though he hadn't just changed the future of an entire world.

Chora’s hand shook as she took the chit, never having so much wealth in her life and Yand couldn't stop grinning. The rest of the night passed quickly as they finished setting up some form of hierarchy, assigning people temporary jobs, and working out the details of their provisional government. Whatever Jedi was sent could work out the full thing but at least this would keep Formos stable until then.

It was near dawn when Ben finished the Jedi request but it was by far the easiest and fastest document he had to make. He had seen enough of them in his life to write one in his sleep. He filled the plea with as many details as possible; the people involved, what he knew about the culture and history of the world and its people, detailing every point of progression which led to their request. 

A clear timeline was always important, and a favorite of Jedi, since it made understanding the situation and preparing easier. After all, Ben knew what it was like to come into a dispute like this blind and he would never do that to a fellow Jedi.

He also knew the exact words that would get the council's attention. A logical appeal for Mace and Ki-Adi-Mundi, an emotional one for Plo and Yaddle, an ethical one for Depa and Eeth, and a reference to the Jedi’s duty for Yoda and Yarael. Ben had known the masters his entire life, their personalities and thought processes familiar, he easily wrote the request so that they would never refuse it.

And finally he made sure to emphasise the danger the planet presented, if only so that his younger self and Anakin were not the ones selected for the mission. It was not that he truly believed the situation to be dire but he planned to return to Formos eventually and it would not due to run into his younger self. And since an unknown number of people had seen _his_ face, it was best to keep his other self far from here to keep odd questions from popping up. It was easier to make it seem like the situation was more volatile than it was if only for his peace of mind.

  
  
  


One of them must have sent out a message because when he arrived at his ship the following morning there were about a hundred people waiting for him. They surged forward when they saw him, pulling on his clothes and talking over each other so much he couldn't make anything out. 

He felt Yand yank him backwards, shouting into his ear just to be heard. “You're a symbol to them now! They want to see you off!”

Ben moved through the crowd slowly, often stopped by someone wanting to give personal thanks or someone shoving something into his hands. By the time he reached the ship he felt he had been walking through the crowd for hours instead of a few minutes. Inside he found all sorts of things piled onto his galley table, from food and blankets to holonovels and alcohols. He tried not to think about how most of the items were probably stolen. In one of the unlocked rooms he found all the charms that had been left in his hospital rooms along with a fully stocked medkit. He deposited the things he had been handed, deciding he would go through them later. 

He went back to the front of the ship to talk to Yand, Chora, and a few of the others he had met during his stay. “It seems everything is in order, now I just need to refuel and fill my water tanks.”

“Oh no Boss, we already got that covered. Had ‘em do it last night when ya said ya was leav’n. Ya all ready ta go.” 

“Ah, well, in that case I suppose I should be off.” Chora moved forward, wrapping him up in a hug. “You better come back you hear?” She pulled back. “I have all the documents ready to go so when you come back we will have this place brand new.”

“Yeah! An then we can show ya around proper.” Ben stretched out his hand to Yand only for the man to ignore it and pull him into another hug. “Ya go save ya friend. We’ll be here.”

Ben watched as they gathered outside with the others, waving at him as he closed the doors. He sat in the cockpit and began the start up sequence. _It's interesting. The last time I was in this seat I was dying_. He turned on the engines, savoring the rattling of the ship as it rose into the air. He gave one last look to the people gathered below, giving them nod out of the viewport. Their shouts were muffled but he could feel their intent all the same. With a warm heart he turned the ship towards the sky, setting course for Rattatak.

_I’ll be there soon Ventress. Wait for me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guess who lives in Houston and didn't have power for most of the week! Still cant drink the water but I wanted to get this chapter out. Sorry if its a bit wonky but I'm too tired to edit and I want to get to Ventress. As always thanks for reading!


	13. New Memories on an Old Planet

Several days after spice shipments from Formos mysteriously stopped, a datapacket was sent out across the galaxy. From Coruscant to Malastare, Christophis to Mandalore, a damning report of abuse, smuggling, and revolt became a household story. 

The media immediately latched onto the report, airing its brutal scenes throughout many systems, replaying and analyzing every part of the document. The core worlds erupted in outrage. It was not often they were faced with the harsh truths of the outer rim territories. Senators and politicians were suddenly inundated with messages and questions about what they planned to do to help the people of Formos. 

Soon dozens of ships descended on Formos. Many packed with supplies, others with people hoping to find a lost loved one, and some with those who had lost product or profit now that their spice shipments had stopped. And amongst them all, one Nautolan Jedi, tasked with guiding the budding new government. 

The galaxy beyond was changing.

But Ben's ship was deep in hyperspace, far out of range for such news to reach it.

In the hold, Ben sat hovering above a stack of crates, rereading his bounty draft for the fifth time. The galley table was still a mess of gifts and the open space of the hold was a good place for him to think. 

He had spent most of the last few years on a ship, trapped in long hallways and small offices. He was used to it. But he didn't  _ like _ it. He preferred the high ceilings of the temple, the open feeling of the council chamber, the knowledge that he could _ move _ if he needed to. And after several days not using the Force it was good to use it freely. To feel it flowing around and through him, echoing down into his very being, singing with light. It felt so unnatural to keep his abilities stifled for so long.

Formos was light years behind him now and after a good few hours of sleep he felt ready to get back to work.  _ Once I finish this I can finally take a moment to meditate. _ He had several more days until he reached Rattatak but the sooner he posted the bounty, the quicker the whole mess would be put to rest. 

The plan was fairly simple. The attack on Rattatak would be in two stages; intel and invasion. 

First, he would hire bounty hunters to gather all the information he lacked; numbers, names, locations. He knew very little about the Rattatak from this time. He needed to know who they were fighting, where, and how many. This would take the most time so he would give it around a week to ensure they had complete information.

The second part would be where the real bounty hunters were brought in, assigning one hunter per warlord. Ordered to capture, not kill. This had to happen on the same day to keep the warlords from learning of their plan so he gave it a few days for all hunters to arrive. 

The first part would be easy, it was the second part that worried him. Ensuring the hunters actually followed orders would be almost impossible. He had failed to bring Halcorr to justice, he would not allow it to happen again. They needed to be brought in alive.

And for that, Ben needed the best. The most professional. The ones who didn't ask questions, who followed orders to the letter, who did not shy away from danger. And that kind of competence did not come cheap.

For a warlord Ben had no doubt the bounty would have to be at least 200,000 credits. _ If not more _ . Additionally, every underling would have to be subdued as well, otherwise they would simply replace the previous warlord. They could be assigned to the lesser hunters for something around 25,000. The reconnaissance hunters would have to be dedicated, as well as thorough and honest.  _ So 5,000 for each piece of useful data. _

The whole endeavor was becoming extremely expensive but Ben didn't care. Credits were just a means to an end.

As for Ben, he would be acting as one of the intel gathers. It would give him a reason to be on Rattatak and it would also give him a reason to interact with Narec and Ventress. He would get the lay of the land and then meet up with the other hunters to share information. Once he knew who had agreed to take the bounty and the warlords names he could assign people as he saw fit.

_ Stars if I could not use your help right now Cody. You and Rex would have already finished the mission and be on the way back to Coruscant by now. _

It still stung, thinking about them. But it was not the overwhelming crushing feeling from before. He had a plan now and they still existed, at least in some form. He  _ would _ see them again. It was only a matter of time.

_ Focus. I need to get this out as soon as possible.  _

Ben read over the posting once more, carefully going over every line to ensure that no misunderstandings could be conveyed. They were to meet two weeks from now, they were not to harm civilians, they were to take the warlords alive. 

There was nothing else he could specify until he knew and met with those who took the contract. The credits were generous so he had no doubt he would have more than enough hunters. 

He sent the contract off to the guild and drifted down to crates. Letting out a long breath he thought, ‘ _ Now all I can do is wait. _ ”

  
  


Time passed slowly and quickly. He was stuck in inaction, trapped in the calm before the storm, unable to do anything but think and worry. There were infinite things that needed to be done and absolutely no way to do them. 

_ What did the clones used to say? ‘Hurry up and wait.’ _

He had done what he could, his plans as well laid out as he could make them. But it didn't seem like enough.

Ben passes the days in sleep and meditation. His shields would need to be strong if he was to meet Ventress or her master. It was not just that they were skilled and would be able to sense him if he relaxed his mind even slightly, it was also that he did not know how  _ he _ would react to seeing them again. He could admit he was… fragile at the moment. The last few weeks had been rather strenuous and he was unsure how he would handle feeling another Jedi again, let alone Ventress. 

_ My shields haven't been this weak since I was a youngling _ . Back then his mind was completely open to the Force, visions of terrible happenings and futures always flooding in. But with the aid of the masters he had managed to build impressive barriers, thinning his foresight to only bad feelings. And as a general, his mental defenses were one of the best in the Order.

But now they were like gossamer, flimsy and delicate, letting so much in. It was the cause of his nightmares and his visions.

Before he reached Rattatak he would have to strengthen them.  _ I have to be completely shielded before I arrive. _

But he had fractures in his foundation. Spiderweb cracks in his mind from feeling the deaths of the other Jedi. And that was to say nothing about the shattered link he had with Anakin. It was still so raw. An agony all its own, lingering in the back of his mind. He didn't have the heart to address it yet.

None of these he could fix by the time he got there. It would take months of meditation and compilation and acceptance to address any of them. So similar to the loss of Qui-gon and yet so much more. And even then he could never reach acceptance until he knew why the clones betrayed them, why the Jedi died when all they wanted was peace. 

His shields would be in tatters for some time, all he could do was try to strengthen what he had left. 

_ They have to be substantial enough to fool a Jedi master... Lovely.  _ He found a comfortable position, rising once again above the boxes.  _ No time like the present. _

* * *

_ I never thought I would be here again _ . Piece of Sith sat just beyond the exosphere of Rattatak, looking down on the war torn planet like some aged sentinel. To say Ben had bad memories of Rattatak would be an understatement. The place was almost enough to cause nightmares.

The explosion. The disorientation. The malicious laughter.

The smell of the leather mask. Evil pouring out of it like needles pressing into his flesh. 

The feeling of the Force being cut off like a limb with only the mocking darkness feeding off his misery.

The cell. The chains. The screams. The muscle maggots writhing inside of him.

The beatings and blood and the almost tender carvings of her knife.

A friend, bloody and tortured, thrown at his feet.

Prisoners left alive.

A city rebuilt on the ashes of war. 

Peace claimed through bloody victory.

A statue of a then nameless Jedi. 

Considered lost and forgotten by the Order.

A hero and a master and a father.

A monument, memorial, and reminder.

The only one she considered a true Jedi.

A lightsaber lovingly entombed in a gilded box.

Abandoned and betrayed.

The tears running down her face as they left.

He had once told her she could have been a great Jedi master, that she would have been one of the orders brightest lights. But it was not in the nature of the darkside to let things go. He had never known her to be devoid of the malignant touch of darkness.

But now he could feel her. There, on the far side of the planet, she glowed like a beacon in the night. Her in her truest form, uncomplicated and unhurt. It was hard to bear.  _ This is what she could have been _ . The tightening of his chest began, a hot coal searing into him.

_ Her and her master are luminous in the Force. Completely unshielded. And why wouldn't they be? They know nothing of the dangers of the Sith. _

He allowed the Force to guide him, to steer his hands towards the pair. It was not hard. They glowed in the force like suns, completely unshielded. They pulled him closer, like a moth to flame. He pulled his shields tight, hiding himself completely. 

He was guided to a city in the yawning canyons of the western reaches. There the homes were carved into the red cliffs, sheltered from the sun. They were down there, he could feel it. Yet it was impossible to know where exactly as their presence was diffused over the whole area, their force pressences left completely unbridled. He didn't dare to land in the town itself and so he landed behind a different plateau, hiding much of the ship under an overhang.

Ben donned his mask as he left the ship. He had no intention of letting them see his face. He made his way through the town, admiring the homes carved from stone. It became apparent quickly that the people were not used to seeing a stranger in their city. Whispering to each other as he passed, following him at a distance. They projected distrust and suspicion, watching him with narrowed eyes.

Eventually he reached a part of town that was cleaner than the rest, its walls more intricately carved and its shade more complete.

“Stop! Who are you?” a man yelled behind him.

Ben turned to find several people with blasters trained on him. Ben had left his saber hidden on the ship, no need to risk them finding out what he was so early.  _ I expected to get caught but not this quickly...Though to be fair, I wasn't exactly hiding. _

“I said who are you!”

_ They must have set this trap for me. Clearly I am unwelcome _ . He had yet to raise his arms and the guards seemed to take it as a challenge, rushing towards him, slamming his back into the wall.

“Take him. I’ll get the warlock.” one of the men said in garbled basic. He ran deeper into the city, vanishing from sight. 

The others jerked him around, hastley tying his arms behind his back. They picked him off the ground, hauling him like a sack of food, before throwing him into a small room which was clearly acting as a makeshift cell if the old mat and pail were any indication. 

Two brutal looking men followed him inside. They stood beside the door, their hard eyes watching him.

The ropes that bound him would do absolutely nothing to hold him but they didn't need to know that. He checked to make sure his mind was fully shielded, taking deep soothing breaths as he waits.

_ Their coming _ . The lights which had been an all encompassing feeling, shifted and shrunk as they focused on what they thought was an enemy.

Ben's breath hitched. It felt like ages since he had felt another force user. Feeling their light, the shades of brilliance that colored their existence was overwhelming.

Over the years of the war he had become hyperaware of other Jedi, seeking out their presence simply to check that they were unhurt. Subconsciously reaching out to them in battle or the temple just to bask in their warmth.

And here two were.

After feeling the lights vanished from the galaxy, feeling his friends and order die, it was too much.

Tears sprang to his eyes unbidden. They ran down his face, hitting the bottom of his mask with soft plinks. The lights moved closer and his shields trembled.

The door opened and in walked an older man, green eyes, long hair, delicate tattoos on his nose and chin. 

Ben wanted so desperately to reach out with the force, to allow himself the comfort of being wrapped in the warmth of another, share his pain without having to say a word. But he doesn't. And the loneliness he feels in his chest grows and he can't stop the tears.

_ I thought I was passed this. I thought I could handle this. Why am I crying? There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no emotion, there is peace. Please...let there be no emotion. _

Narec was talking but Ben could not hear him. It was too terrible. If only they were more restrained, shielded enough that he didn't have to feel everything he was denying himself. 

Ventress was there too, just beyond the wall, waiting on the other side of the door like a stranger. Her pensive, curious thoughts rolling around him like waves.

Narec moved closer, thoughtful eyes taking him in. He speaks again, the vaguest sound of words coming through. Ben knew he couldn't release his feelings but he could suppress them. Push them down, cut himself off from them. It hurt, an ache in his very core, but it hurt less. And less had to be enough for now.

“Answer him, scum.”

“Peace, Primat. He may not speak basic.” The older Jedi moves closer, kneeling in front of Ben. Behind him the guards tensed, adjusting their blasters.

Narec asks again in Huttese and Rodian but it is only when he asks in Devaronian does Ben even really begin to hear him. 

_ “ -ou understand me? _ ”

“I...Yes, I understand you.” he answers in basic. His voice is wavering but his helmet disguises it.

Narec frowns and moves away. “Then you should have no trouble answering my other questions. Who are you and why are you here?”

Ben’s tongue is heavy in his mouth, words dying on his lips.  _ He's curious and cautious but not angry. _ He could feel the man's essence so clearly. 

_ A heart that helps without question. Warm and inviting and knowing. He watches to understand, words kept secret, for words alone convey little. Action needed always. Act to save and protect. Protect, guide, lead. His aura so peaceful, so strong. _

It made him so happy and yet hurt him greatly. 

“...I…” he can't say anything. All his clever words have fled him. It's too much.

Narec stares at him for a moment and Ben can feel the brush of the Force against his mind. It seeks out a crack in his thoughts, a place to wiggle through and reveal his intention, but his mind is sealed, kept shut through years of practice, all his little cracks carefully hidden away.

Narec’s eyes narrow and he pulls away and Ben misses the feeling. The older Jedi speaks quietly to one of the guards who slips out into the hall.

“I am Jedi Master Ky Narec and this area is under my protection. I ask you again, who are you and what are you doing here.”

“I...I am a bounty hunter.” he manages to utter. He's calming down but not fast enough. He can't release any feelings into the Force and pushing them away is  _ difficult _ . Narec hand grabs his lightsaber, holding it loosely in his hand. “You have one chance to leave bounty hunter. Tell your warlords they will find no easy targets here.”

_ He thinks I'm here for them! _

It never occurred to him that they would think he was a bounty hunter after  _ them  _ but he should have. They were after all wanted by every warlord on the planet. Of course they would think a bounty hunter was for them.

“You misunderstand. I am not here for anyone. I have taken on a job to observe the planet and its people, nothing more.”

Narec doesn't move, though his eyes unfocus slightly, communicating with the Force. His hand tightens on his lightsaber as he turns his attention back to Ben. “You are telling only half truths. Answer me truthfully, who are you?”

_ Of course. Even if he cannot read me in the Force he can still know other things. Anything I say must ring true or he will know. A master is a master after all. I will have to be careful. _

“I am called Ben and I am a bounty hunter. I am here to collect intel on the warlords and people of this planet.” Everything he said was technically true, from a certain point of view. He couldn't say things like _ my name is Ben _ or that he was  _ only _ here for information because it wasn't the full truth. 

“I have the bounty here on my communicator...I'll show you.” He slowly reached for his comm, pulling up the bounty on the holographic display. Everything about it was legitimate.

Ben put every ounce of his resolve and sincerity into saying “I mean you no harm Jedi Master.” Narec shivered, as though a cold wind had passed over him before helping Ben to his feet.

“I believe you.” Narec is focused on him intensely. “...You know what a Jedi is.” 

“Yes.” It's all he trusts to say.

“And you are from Coruscant.” Ben's head snaps to him. “Your accent is very distinct, even through a helmet.” the man smirks. 

“So tell me why someone is so interested in Rattatak?” Narec leads him into the hall. And there leaning against the wall, was Ventress.

  
Emotions flash across his mind like lightning but all he can think is  _ ‘She has hair! _ ’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So new chapters may take awhile to come out for awhile, looking for a job and studying for the SIE will be taking up alot of my time. But don't worry! This story is absolutely not abandoned! As always, thanks for reading!


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